


I'm coming home (just in time)

by larrycaring



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), One Direction (Band)
Genre: 1920s, 1969, 2015 - Freeform, Adventure, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1920s, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blink AU, Creatures, DVDs, Destiny, Doctor Who AU, Drama, Easter Eggs, Enigma - Freeform, Episode: s03e10 Blink, Fate, Hospital, Hull, I SWEAR YOU CAN READ THIS WITHOUT HAVING WATCHED DOCTOR WHO, I swear, London, M/M, Mystery, Mystery Stories, Nerd Liam, PLEASE GIVE IT A GO, Science Fiction, TARDIS - Freeform, Time Travel, Trapped in the Past, Wester Drumlins, YES IT'S A HAPPY ENDING!!!!!!!!!, abandoned house, alien - Freeform, angel statue, because of course, but you don't need to watch Doctor Who to read this, clue, everything is explained, holmes chapel, it's explained, just because LouisandHarry are soul mates, larry - Freeform, larry is real, larry stylinson - Freeform, light thriller I guess, louisandharry are soul mates, oh and google "weeping angels" if you wanna know what those creatures look like, older version of some characters, police phone box, secret, so this Doctor Who AU is inspired by an episode, soul mates, statue, there's a minor character death, they're even twin flames, those angel statues come to life, very minor and it's not described, weeping angel - Freeform, y'all need to read this because I did a happy ending despite all the rules, yes because The Doctor is an alien
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2016-03-10
Packaged: 2018-05-25 21:52:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6211471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I am not in Hull,” Louis fumes, but he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince at this point, because one thing he is sure of, he is no longer in London.</p><p>“But you are,” the boy exclaims as he shakes his head. “Look, it is written in black and white just there,” the guy continues, looking down at the newspaper, “Hull, 1920.”</p><p>“1920!?” Louis takes the newspaper from the boy’s hands, and when his eyes land on the paper, he feels like his world has just collapsed.</p><p>The Hull Times, 5th July 1920</p><p>How has he ended up in Yorkshire in the 1920’s? Why can’t he remember a thing on how he’s gotten here? The only thing he remembers is...</p><p>“Harry.”</p><p>“Who’s Harry?”</p><p>Oh god, Harry.</p><p>or a time travel journey where Harry fights his way back to Louis, because when two souls are meant to be, nothing can stop them from reuniting.</p><p>Translation of the fic in: <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/6592015">french</a>.<br/>in portuguese <a href="https://www.wattpad.com/story/95540746-i%27m-coming-home-just-in-time-portuguese-version">here</a>.<br/>and russian <a href="https://ficbook.net/readfic/5849364">here</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm coming home (just in time)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!
> 
> As some of you may know (from my tweets, because I tweet about it a lot), I am a huge Doctor Who fan.
> 
> I've been meaning to write a Larry Doctor Who AU for AGES. In fact, I've started one like, months ago, but I still haven't finished it (either because I don't have time or just because I have a lack of self-confidence and inspiration). 
> 
> Yet, here I am with another Doctor Who AU idea I've got. I was literally hit with inspiration for this one. If some of you are familiar with Doctor Who, this fic is based on and strongly inspired by the episode "Blink" of series 3.
> 
> If some of you haven't watched Doctor Who, NO WORRIES, it's okay you definitely can read this fic and understand (well, I hope so).
> 
> Since I got inspired a lot by the episode, I obviously quoted and took some of the sentences or dialogues, because I thought it really fit. It was quite actually a challenge for me, because this episode is complicated, well, the whole thing with Doctor Who is complicated, because it's a time travelling show, so yeah, but I did try my best not to make the fic too much like the episode. So yeah, most of the sentences are from the episodes though.
> 
> I don't take credit for the wonderful plot that is this episode, so copyright to the writers of the show and BBC. All Hail Doctor Who. 
> 
> Also, I do not own One Direction. Sadly. If I did, I would treat them better. 
> 
> Last but not least, a HUGE thank you to my friend and beta Noelle (twitter: [@LavenderHarryyy](https://twitter.com/LavenderHarryyy) // AO3: [Noelle1224](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelle1224)) for being so patient with me and helping me with the story. It's thanks to her I managed to write a happy ending.
> 
> Title is the lyrics from the song Time Travel by Never Shout Never.
> 
> The edit is mine but the pictures aren't. Credits to the owner!
> 
> ENJOY.

**_PAST_ **

Louis feels monumentally lost for a moment. His vision is blurry, and he feels dizzy and tired, as if he ran a 50-mile ultra marathon. He is panting, completely disoriented. Slowly, he finally manages to take notice of the place he’s in.

His eyes open wide at the landscape. He seems to be in the middle of a cornfield, the sun shining above him as the rays of the sun touch him, making him now feel too hot in his winter coat. Which...

Which doesn’t make any sense at all. Because Louis was in the cold of London a few seconds ago. It was even raining; he is sure of that.

He turns around, shielding himself from the sun with one hand as he checks his surroundings.

“What the hell...” he whispers, his confused eyes scanning the cornfield to somehow find some answers.

His gaze lands on a young boy sitting on a dry stone wall. The lad seems to be reading a newspaper while eating an apple, and he doesn’t seem to have noticed Louis, who’s standing only a few meters away.

Louis doesn’t think twice before rushing towards the male.

“Hey you,” he shouts, making the guy on the wall jump, his head snapping up at the voice.

“Whoa! Where did ya come from, mate? I didn’t hear ya,” the boy exclaims, and Louis can definitely hear an Irish accent. He also notices his blonde hair and a joyful red face. He seems friendly enough, but Louis doesn’t have time to make acquaintance.

He stops before the blonde guy, taking into account his outfit. He’s wearing a cloth cap and quite old clothes, a strange attire to wear, if you’d ask Louis.

“Where am I?” Louis interrogates, making the boy blink then chuckle.

“Ya alright?” the guy asks instead of answering.

Louis doesn’t have time for this. He really doesn’t understand a thing, where the hell he is, how he’s gotten here, so no, he is not alright.

“Tell me where I am,” he doesn’t mean to snap, but the blonde guy startles, raising his hands in the air with wide eyes.

“Oi, alright. You’re in Hull.”

“Hull,” Louis echoes dumbly.

“Absolutely, Hull,” the Irish guy confirms, still perched on his wall, looking Louis up and down, intrigued.

Louis frowns.

How the hell did he get there?

“Hull,” Louis repeats after a bit. “As in Hull, the city in the East Riding of Yorkshire?” he inquires, growing more and more frantic and confused.

“Yeah, now you’re on the trolley,” the boy answers with a smile, but then rapidly losing it when Louis only stares at him with blank eyes.

The boy looks around as if Louis was a bit crazy. “You’re a funny old bird. Are ya sure you’re alright, mate?”

“No, no I am not,” Louis barks, making the boy flinch. “I am not in Hull. I’m in London! I was in London,” he stutters, turning to look around him.

“But this is not London,” the boy retorts with a hesitant voice. “We are–” ge stops himself when Louis spins around, scowling at the boy.

“I am not in Hull. Stop saying nonsense,” Louis roars.

“Says you,” the boy responds with a frown. “Mate, if someone’s saying baloney, it’s ya...” he says lowly, and Louis gives him another dirty look.

“I am not in Hull,” Louis fumes, but he doesn’t know who he is trying to convince at this point, because one thing he is sure of, he is no longer in London.

“But you are,” the boy exclaims as he shakes his head.

Before Louis can open his mouth, the Irish lad stands up, making Louis take a few steps back.

The boy holds something out to him. “Look, it is written in black and white just there,” the guy continues, looking down at the newspaper, “Hull, 1920.”

Louis takes a sharp breath, his eyes widening. “1920!?” He takes the newspaper from the boy’s hands, and when his eyes land on the paper, he feels like his world has just collapsed.

**The Hull Times, 5th July 1920**

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck!?

Louis’ heart starts beating faster, he can hear the blood in his ears, can feel himself levitating somewhere else.

Because surely it cannot be possible. How the hell is this possible!? Is this some sort of a prank!? Is he actually dreaming? Just to make sure, he pinches himself.

“Ya alright, mate? Why is your mouth lodged open like that...?” the guy tentatively jokes, making Louis look up at him with frightened eyes.

“Wow, okay,” the boy blurts, noticing Louis’ uneasiness.

Louis feels an arm wrapping around his shoulders, doesn’t really register when his legs start moving and when his bum hits the stones where the boy makes him sit on the wall.

A million thoughts are going through his mind right now. So many questions, like how he has ended up in Yorkshire in the 1920’s, why can’t he remember a thing? Oh god, did he just become amnesic?

“Hey, take a deep breath, it’s gonna be alright,” the Irish boy says softly, trying to be comforting as he rubs Louis’ back.

No, it is not going to be alright. Louis cannot remember a thing on how he’s gotten here. The only thing he remembers is...

“Harry,” Louis lets out in a gasp.

The movement of the hand on his back stops. “Who’s Harry?” the guy asks with a careful voice.

Oh god, Harry.

Louis lifts his head, staring ahead of him as he struggles to catch his breath.

He cannot stop the panic rising inside of him. But he thinks he has a right to be panicking right now, considering his situation.

The only thing he can remember is being with Harry in this creepy mansion; and god, he knew this was a bad idea. Why did he let the curly-haired boy drag him into this abandoned house? Why can’t he remember a thing?

It’s all blurry and confusing.

He was wandering in the house after Harry insisted to go there because he had found something he wanted to show him. They got separated because Harry was gone somewhere else...

Yes, now he remembers...

Harry went to open the front door because someone rang the bell... Louis stayed hidden behind, listening to their conversation. And then he heard a strange noise behind him... And when he turned around him... He...

Louis frowns, shivering as something strikes a note. He remembers.

He faced the ugliest and most terrifying statue he has even seen in his whole life.

And then it was the void. Total black out.

He just landed here, in this field.

Oh god, Harry is still at the mansion! And he is going to be attacked too!

Louis bolts up, the situation finally hitting him as adrenaline pumps through his veins.

“Oi,” the Irish guy yells, surprised, following him in suit.

Louis ignores him and instead starts walking away in a quick pace.

“Wait,” the boy exclaims, grabbing Louis by the elbow. “Where do ya think you’re going?”

Louis frees his arm. “Let me go! I have to find Harry!”

The blonde guy latches on to his shoulders again, making Louis face him. “Who the hell is Harry!?” he howls. “Ya need to get your shit together, mate! You clearly are not in your right mind,” he tries to resonate, and Louis allows himself a few seconds to breathe.

“I can help ya,” the boy insists, locking his blue eyes with Louis’. The latter stares at him, eyes still frantic and heart beating fast. “Tell me what’s happened to ya.”

“I–” Louis’ voice wavers. “I’m not sure.”

Louis must look quite a mess and he probably sounds utterly insane, yet the blonde guy wraps one arm around him, taking him under his wing.

~

**_PRESENT DAY_ **

Harry must be crazy. Yes, plausibly.

He’s currently climbing over a set of wrought iron gates, and you would think the “ **Danger Keep Out Unsafe Structure London County Council** “ notice should stop him from exploring the big house, but apparently not.

He exhales in a puff when he lands on the other side, rubbing his hands together to get rid of the dirty black marks on his hands. He makes sure his camera is still around his neck, of course it still is, before making his way towards the house.

The building seems scarier at night. Of course it does. What would you except from an old mansion abandoned for years? The place is slowly falling to pieces, and no one ever wanted to destroy or build something new instead. But it’s okay for Harry, because it’s a nice area to take pictures. After all, it could be a good project for his photography courses. The old estate is probably full of history.

Harry walks towards the nearest boarded up window, which looks to be leading into a conservatory. He breaks in through it, but not before snapping a picture of the inscription written in red on the wooden planks.

Once inside, he reaches for his torch in his backpack, flicking it on as he looks around him. The conservatory is full of dust and cobwebs, a rotten couch in the middle of the room, and a broken chandelier on the ground. He takes a few pictures of it, before taking more shots of the furniture around him.

But then, something catches his eyes on the facade. He moves his camera away from his face, noticing in big blue colour the letter “B“ on the wall.

He frowns, walking closer to the decrepit wall. The letter “B“ peeks from underneath a piece of peeling wallpaper. Harry hesitantly raises his hand, fingers itching to pull it. He takes a deep short breath and does so, revealing a sentence.

“ _Beware The Weeping Angel._ “

Harry frowns while he pulls more on the wallpaper, discovering “ _Oh, and duck!_ “ written.

Harry’s frown deepens. He notices there’s more, so he pulls again. “ _Really, duck!_ “

He pulls more, and more, tearing off the whole thing. “ _Harry Styles, duck NOW!”_

Harry gasps, backing away and ducking quickly. Once he’s kneeling on the ground, he hears the window behind him shatter. He barely registers the thing that broke the window bouncing off the wall and finally falling on the floor.

Harry pushes himself up from the ground, mouth wide opened, on alert. He hastily makes his way towards the window, directing the light of his torch outside to see something, anything. But outside, there is only a statue standing close to the window.

He narrows his eyes at it, noticing it’s an angel with its hands covering its face. He illuminates the garden with his torch, but sees nothing.

He exhales, still stunned, then he turns his head to reread the words on the wall.

“ _Beware The Weeping Angel._ “

“What the...” Harry mutters, returning to the wall. He pulls off more paper and...

There, in big letters, he reads the words, “ _Love from Louis._ “

Harry finds himself dumbstruck for a few moments, staring at the wall with bated breath.

~

Harry struggles at unlocking the door. With a thrust of his hip, the lock finally clicks, Harry letting out a sigh of relief. And Louis said last time he would call a locksmith, yeah, right.

He shakes his head with a fond smile, taking his shoes off, completely covered in mud. He feels like a true adventurer, exploring an old house in a perfectly creepy surrounding. He also got a fright, but that’s not something he is going to mention to anyone. Except maybe Louis, because he has to tell him what he’s seen and read. He can’t shake the image of the messages out of his mind.

He takes off his coat and hangs it on the coat rack, shaking his curls while making his way upstairs.

“Louis!?” Harry calls in the middle of the stairs, knowing Louis isn’t sleeping at 11pm. His attention is however drawn to the guest room, where light is coming from, as well as sounds.

He enters the room, and finds a computer screen on, with a brown-haired man speaking. In fact, there is more than one screen inside the room. Harry leans against the doorframe, frowning at all the computer screens, eyes watching one then moving to look at another one, a bit confused.

“Yet. They’re coming,” the brown-haired man with black glasses says in the screen. “They’re coming for you, but listen, your life could depend on this,” his tone is serious and confident, “don’t blink. Don’t even blink. Blink and you’re dead.”

Harry frowns, feeling as if the man is staring right into his soul, talking to him. “They are fast, faster than you can believe. Don’t turn your back, don’t look away, and don’t blink.” There’s a pause. “Good luck.”

The screen freezes after that, and Harry looks at the other screens, where he sees a woman with long black hair with the same man.

He shakes his head, wondering what the hell Louis is watching again, and what all this stuff is about.

Or maybe it’s Zayn’s stuff again, Harry wouldn’t be surprised.

He turns around, ignoring the screens. “Louis?” he calls out.

“I’m in the kitchen,” Louis yells from downstairs, and Harry asks himself how he didn’t even hear Louis the first time, but he makes his way downstairs, joining his boyfriend in the kitchen.

“Hi babe,” Harry greets, finding Louis sat at the table, reading a comic with a tea in his hand.

Louis looks up and smiles at the curly-haired boy, his eyes lighting up automatically when he sees Harry. The latter wonders if his eyes do the same thing when Louis talks to him. Probably. That’s what Zayn and Liam keep saying anyway.

Harry pecks his boyfriend on the mouth before taking a seat in a chair. “How come you didn’t hear me the first time?”

Louis frowns, before catching on. “Oh, I didn’t hear you enter, I was in the backyard with the dog.” The boy nods at their dog Bruce on the ground, eating his croquettes.

Harry smiles at the animal before another question pops in his head. “What’s that on all those screens in the guest room?” he inquires, making the older boy close his comic.

“Oh god, I know. I’m sorry! I told Liam–”

“Liam?” Harry cuts in, frowning, because he doesn’t really understand what his boyfriend’s brother has to do with this conversation.

“Yeah...” Louis sighs, taking Harry’s hand in his, and Harry notices how cold it is, probably because Louis was outside for a while. Bruce tends to take such a long time to relieve himself. “Liam and Zayn fell out. Again,” Louis tells him, shaking his head. “I told him it was okay for him to crash in the guest room.”

“Oh,” Harry answers. “Okay.” He chews on his lip, feeling down. He doesn’t like when his friends fight. And it is not usual for Liam to go away from home and Zayn, and avoid problems. Must be pretty serious, Harry will have to speak with him.

“You don’t mind, do you?” Louis demands, biting his lip.

“Of course not, Lou,” Harry responds immediately, taken aback that Louis would think it’s a problem. “Liam is my family too,” he simply says in a tender tone.

Louis and Harry have known each other for ten years, when Harry entered secondary school and was only eleven years old, whereas Louis was in year eight, aged thirteen. They quickly became friends, Harry making his way into Louis’ heart despite their age difference and various group of friends. They lived near each other as well, so that probably helped. Harry kind of worshipped Louis, always looked up to him, and Louis liked Harry, taking him under his wing and protecting him from the world.

It’s when Louis became a teen that Harry developed a little innocent crush, but it was when Louis started dating Hannah around eighteen years old that little chubby sixteen-year-old Harry realised he felt more for Louis. It didn’t take long for the two boys to figure out their feelings for each other though, and since then, it was just LouisandHarry. That simple. Liam and Louis didn’t get along with their parents, and Louis was the first one to break all ties, Liam following a year later. Then it was just the three of them, before Liam met Zayn a few weeks later.

Now at twenty-one years old, Harry is living in a rented house with his boyfriend of five years, well, occasionally with his brother-in-law Liam, and life is just great, really.

He is studying photography and history at university, while Louis teaches drama at primary school, while occasionally writing songs for himself. Which is a shame, because Louis’ songs should be heard by everyone.

Louis returns the smile and brings his fingers under Harry’s chin, making Harry lean down to kiss him. Louis pecks his lips a few times, and Harry can’t stop smiling, neither can Louis.

Finally, the latter pulls away, still beaming at Harry.

“So, what have you got this time?” the older boy says eagerly.

Harry frowns, momentarily lost. When Louis arches an eyebrow and points out at his chest, only then Harry remembers his camera around his neck. And what’s happened tonight.

He is suddenly taken by a strange feeling, and it must have shown on his face because Louis straightens up in his seat, a serious expression on.

“Harry?” Louis asks, tilting his head as he squeezes his hand. “Are you okay? What is it?”

The younger boy slightly shakes his head. “I’m not sure... Something weird happened to me earlier.”

“What?” Louis blurts out, scrutinizing Harry’s face. “Tell me! Are you alright?”

Harry lets out a little chuckle as Louis’ protective mode activates, but he nods. “Yeah, I’m alright, I’m just– I don’t know, it would be better if I showed you.”

Louis frowns, waiting for more. “Show me what?”

~

And here they are, at 9 o’clock in the morning the day after, climbing over the fence like Harry did last night.

“I swear to god Harold; I don’t know why I am doing this,” Louis complains as he swings his right leg over the fence, Harry helping him to climb down.

“Because you wanted to know, and I wanted to show you,” Harry answers proudly.

Louis lands on the ground with a ’whoof’, rubbing his trousers. “Yeah, but I really don’t know why I am being dragged to this freaking creepy place.”

Harry smirks, looking down at his boy, hands perched on his hips. “Don’t tell me you’re scared, Tomlinson.”

Louis huffs, offended. “Scared!?” He shakes his head. “Me!?” He lifts his chin, walking away from Harry while pushing him with his shoulder. “You must have mistaken me for someone else,” he says loftily.

Harry trots to catch up, nudging the boy with his shoulder. “So, shall we go in?”

The two boys stop in front of the house, and Harry stays silent as Louis observes the mansion. The building is undeniably less frightening than last night since they’re in daylight.

Louis shakes his head with mock exasperation, but his eyes betray him. They’re shining with mischief, and his smile is fond when he smirks at Harry. “Okay, come on. Let’s investigate,” the older boy exclaims with enthusiasm, winking at his boyfriend.

Harry beams, intertwining his arm with Louis’. “Come on then, darling! Let’s do this.”

This time, Harry enters by the main front door, which produces an excellent creaking sound. The interior is as equal to outside, crumbling into ruin, with abandoned furniture, cobwebs and dust everywhere. But the place is beautiful, with pretty tiled floor and floral patterned wallpaper.

“What did you come here for anyway?” Louis suddenly breaks the silence, studying the ceiling.

“I told you, it’s for uni. And I love old things,” Harry distractedly answers, noticing the door that probably leads to the room he broke into yesterday. He accelerates his pace, gesturing at Louis. “It’s over there!”

He pushes the broken white door and enters, Louis following him. They arrive in the drawing room, and Harry quickly drags Louis through another door, leading to the conservatory.

The latter almost trips because of the chandelier on the ground, but thank god their arms were intertwined, because Harry catches hold of him by the other arm, stabilising him.

The older boy looks up and silently thanks him, as Harry smiles down at the boy, pecking him briefly on the mouth. Louis wishes he could deepen the kiss, but Harry pulls away, leading him towards a wall.

“Look,” the younger boy whispers.

Harry reads the words again, making sure he didn’t dream them. But no, they are still there. Yesterday did happen.

Louis reads the words under his breath, and when he pronounces ’Beware The Weeping Angel’ out loud, Harry unthinkingly turns his head to look outside.

“The angel,” he yawps, making Louis stop in his reading.

“What angel?” Louis asks, turning his head to frown at Harry.

Harry walks closer to the window, avoiding the broken glass. He narrows his eyes, staring with bewilderment at the statue who’s standing far away in the garden. “The statue seemed closer last night,” he murmurs to himself.

“Harry...” Louis’ voice sounds a bit off, and Harry immediately turns towards him, remembering in the first place what shocked him the most yesterday. He finds Louis staring at the wall, brows knitted together.

Harry walks to him, taking his hand in his. “I know, that’s what I wanted to show you. Isn’t this strange?” Harry babbles, thumb caressing Louis’ hand.

The latter squeezes his hand. “Yeah. _’Love from Louis’_? And... Harry...” Louis turns to look at him, a bit wary with concerned and perplexed eyes. “How come your name is written on this wall?” He looks back at the writing. “How is this possible?” He looks back at Harry, who’s as puzzled and lost as him. “Are you pranking me right now, Styles?” Louis suddenly scowls.

“What?” Harry blurts out.

“Is this revenge for all the pranks I pulled on you?” Louis rolls his eyes. “You know I’m sorry darling–”

“No!” Harry stops him, shaking his head. “Louis, last night as I was reading this, when I read ’duck’,” Harry points at the words, “something flew into the room, came from outside, went straight through the window, and... Look it’s broken!” He shows the pieces on the floor. “And my name?” He agitates his hand towards the wall. “I don’t know how this happened, and yours too written on it? This is just insane!” Harry speaks fast, before frowning. “And the angel...”

He looks out the window again, and what he perceives with his eyes makes him gasp with dismay. “It’s moved!”

Louis falteringly follows his gaze. “It’s what?”

Harry looks at him with wide eyes. “Since yesterday! I’m sure of it.” He looked back outside. “It’s closer. It’s got closer to the house! But last night it was even closer,” Harry rumbles, staring at the angel outside. The statue is starting to really spook him, and it’s not even night.

The two boys stay quiet, when suddenly the silence is interrupted by the doorbell, making them jump.

Harry’s grip on Louis’ hand tightens, the other hand grabbing Louis’ arm, as the latter instantly goes in front of Harry to protect him of an eventual attack of… They don’t really know.

Louis looks at the younger boy over his shoulder, whispering. “I thought you said the house was abandoned?”

“It is,” Harry winces, pointing out with his arm at the obvious abandoned stuff.

He unlaces his fingers from Louis’ and starts moving forward, but Louis swiftly pulls on his hand. “What are you doing?” Louis’ eyes widen. “It could be a burglar or something! Or a homeless!”

Harry arches an eyebrow. “And they would ring the doorbell?”

Louis doesn’t say anything, just shrugs and makes a grimace.

The two boys stare into each others eyes, having a silent conversation.

Finally, Louis sighs deeply. “You’re going to open this freaking damn door, aren’t you?”

Harry purses his lip, not trying to suppress his smile.

Louis rolls his eyes and lets go of his hand. “Okay fine!” He waves his hand. “But I’m staying hidden here with this.” He bends down to pick up an iron bar. “You scream if anything happens, ok?” Louis raises his eyebrows. “And I’ll burst out as fast as I can.” He instructs in a serious tone, making Harry giggle.

He takes Louis’ hand to his mouth, kissing his knuckles. “Sure, my hero.”

Louis gives him a look, and then Harry drops his hand. Louis backs away, albeit reluctantly.

The younger boy blows him one last kiss, before turning around to exit the room, heading toward the main entrance with the huge double doors.

He’s almost at it when the doorbell rings again, and Harry stops dead in his tracks, now unsure. He takes a deep breath and raises his hand, slowly turning the doorknob, and finally opening the door.

He doesn’t expect to see a small old lady somewhat broad with fair skin, wavy and graying golden-blonde hair with blue eyes standing on the porch in front of him. She’s wearing a dark coat and a hat, holding an umbrella in her hand to shield herself from the rain.

Harry’s first instinct is to tell her to come in, but before he can open his mouth, the lady speaks with a silvery voice. “I’m looking for Harry Styles?” She tilts her head, examining him.

Harry startles, blinking down at the woman, before her words sink in. “How did you know I’d be here?” he queries, a bit stumped.

“You’re Mister Styles?” The woman answers instead with another question.

Harry hesitantly nods, narrowing his eyes at her.

“I was told to bring this letter on this date at this exact time to Harry Styles,” the woman announces, holding something out to him.

Harry looks down, noticing it’s a cream envelope with his name written in a curvy and sloppy handwriting that strangely reminds him of someone else’s handwriting.

He looks up at the lady without taking it. He doesn’t understand a thing.

“Looks old,” is all he says, while he’s trying to comprehend who this woman is, and why does she have a letter designated to him? How does she know about him? How did she know he was going to be here?

Instinctively, Harry looks over his shoulder, ready to call Louis if anything goes wrong, but his attention is drawn back to the woman when she speaks up.

“It is old,” she concedes in an affective tone.

~

Louis has been listening to the conversation with his head between the gap of the door and the door frame, making sure to properly hear when Harry calls for him. So far, he’s only overheard a woman talking to Harry, and that she apparently had something for him.

He’s so caught up in the conversation, that he jumps when he hears a noise behind him.

Hurriedly, he turns around and scans the room. But as expected, he sees nothing. He narrows his eyes and is about to turn around again to go back at listening to the conversation, but then the sound of birds flying away with a chirp break the silence.

Louis shuffles towards the window, making sure to still listen attentively to Harry with one ear.

“Tell me, how did you know I was coming here? I didn’t tell anyone. How could anyone have known?” Harry’s voice is heard.

Louis frowns, stepping closer to the broken window.

“It’s all a bit complicated,” Louis hears the woman answer. “I’m not sure I understand it myself...”

Louis only spots the same statue as earlier in the garden. He shivers, rubbing his arms with his hands. What a creepy statue.

He turns his back to the window and the statue, going back to the door.

~

Harry really doesn’t understand what this woman is on about, but he figures she cannot be dangerous. Also, his mother always taught him well. He won’t let this old woman get completely drenched.

“Please, come in,” he invites, stepping away.

The lady kindly smiles, and as Harry closes the door, the woman looks at him with warmhearted eyes and a forbearing look on her face. “Please, Mister Styles,” the woman urges him the letter. “This belongs to you now.”

Harry licks his lips, observing her with confusion. He looks down at the letter, then goes back to look her in the eyes. He sees nothing but a friendly look. Still.

“Who is it from?” Harry demands.

The lady gives him a cryptic smile. “It’s a long story.”

“Give me a name. Please,” he insists.

The woman shuts her eyes, before inhaling. She finally drops her arm, down casting her eyes. When she looks up at Harry, she’s somewhat looking at him with tenderness, but also apprehension, and... Sympathy?

~

Louis finds himself leaving the conservatory, arriving in the drawing room. He’s just heard Harry asking “who is it from“ and asking for a name when he hears another sound behind him.

He quickly turns around and only has the time to see the angel statue in front of him, hands reaching for him with a contorted and ugly face, mouth-opened wide... And then, he sees nothing. The void.

~

The old lady seems reluctant to give the name, and Harry is growing impatient. “A name, please,” he asks one last time, more forcefully.

The golden-blonde haired woman looks away, before sighing and then looking at Harry straight in the eyes.

“Louis Tomlinson.”

Harry blinks, dumbfounded. “Louis?” he chuckles nervously, glancing away. How does she know Louis now? Who is this woman?

The lady nods sorrowfully. “Yes, Louis...” She hesitates another second before adding, “Louis William Tomlinson.”

Harry breathes in, taking a step back. “Who are you? Is this a joke? Is this actually Louis pranking me or...?” He narrows his eyes, shaking his head as he glances over his shoulder, ready to yell at Louis to bring his ass over here.

“Louis,” Harry calls out. “Very funny, you can come out now,” he snorts, rolling his eyes.

He looks back at the woman and laughs, rolling his eyes once again. “I swear, this boy.”

The lady bites her lips, her expression growing heartrending.

“Louis,” he calls again, ignoring the woman’s look.

He swings fast and goes to the conservatory, only paying attention to the woman following him.

He’s ready to yell at Louis again, but the boy isn’t in the room.

Harry frowns, looking around. “Louis?” No answer. He glances at the lady before heading to the broken window, but there is no sign of Louis outside, only the same creepy angel.

“Louis!?” Harry yells louder, looking at the ceiling.

He is starting to panic a bit. He doesn’t like when Louis’ pranks last too long.

The woman shifts, and Harry immediately tenses up, backing away.

“Louis!” He shouts again, running away towards the main entrance. “Louis!” He starts climbing the stairs, but the woman’s voice echoes behind him.

“Please, you have to take this,” the woman pleads, holding out the envelope. “I promised.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry says with a thick voice, climbing down the stairs. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

The woman tilts her head. “I made a promise.”

“To who?” Harry frowns.

The woman still holds the envelope in the air. “My grandfather. Louis William Tomlinson.”

Harry is on the last step, the woman a few meters away. “Your grandfather?”

The lady nods, eyes suddenly warmer than earlier, if it’s possible. Harry doesn’t understand. “Yes. He died twenty years ago.”

Harry keeps growing confused. “I don’t understand,” he repeats with a puff. “Why would you talk to me about your grandfather? I–” He shakes his head. “This doesn’t make sense,” he breathes out, letting out a dry chuckle, eyes wide. He is completely befuddled.

The old woman gives him a small smile, nodding sympathetically. “I know. It is not very clear to me either, but... You will understand if you read this.” She takes his hand and gives the envelope. “I reckon he will explain it better than me,” she finishes with a sad tone.

Harry’s lips are sucked in, pondering when the hell Louis is finally going to burst in. He can’t believe he’s still letting this prank unwind.

With a sigh, he opens the envelope, frowning at the very old pictures he finds in it.

One of them is a photograph of a familiar young man in a black suit, beside him stands a pretty girl with brown and wavy hair in a white dress, and Harry guesses it’s a wedding picture.

The other photograph is of the same guy, looking so much like... Like Louis... He’s wearing a gray suit from that time, which must be in the 1920’s. He’s standing proudly, arms behind his back, with a clever smile full of mischief on his face, the same smile that Harry often sees in his life.

His eyes snap up at the woman, and the latter looks up at him. She was apparently watching the pictures as well.

“So they’re related?” he blurts out.

“Sorry?” The woman blinks, now puzzled.

“My Louis.” Harry lets out, incredulous. “Your grandfather?” He looks down at the picture of the proud man. “They’re... They’re practically identical. That’s... That’s unbelievable,” he breathes out, stunned and astounded.

He looks up at the woman who doesn’t say anything, but instead points at the envelope. “You should read the letter, my boy,” she instructs with a gentle tone, expression melancholic.

Harry frowns, still doesn’t understand a thing of what’s going on, but he takes the letter and...

And he strangely recognizes the handwriting. It’s so familiar. And it’s impossible.

He looks up at the lady with fearful eyes, and the old woman gives him an encouraging smile.

Still anxious, Harry drops his gaze to the letter, reading it.

_My dear Harry,_

_This is really me, my love. Your Louis._

_I know you must not understand what is going on right now, and that this is going to sound strange and unbelievable, but yet it is real. I promise this is not a joke, I know you think it is, but it is not. You need to read this until the end, so please bear with me darling._

_The person who has just, I hope, delivered the letter to you, is my granddaughter, Dinah Hannah Tomlinson; so please, be kind to her. If she has done as she promised, then as you read these words it has been mere minutes since we last spoke. For you at least. For me, it has been over ninety years. Please, do not stop reading._

Harry takes a shaky breath, because he was right on him going to stop reading, and go grab Louis to stop messing around with him.

He bites his bottom lip, but keeps reading, growing more and more confused, but mostly baffled.

_This is complicated to explain, but right now you need to leave the mansion. Beware The Weeping Angel Harry, it is what got me._

Harry frowns, letting out a gasp. He rushes to the conservatory without a word to the lady, and yelps when he sees no angel outside in the garden.

“We need to leave this place, now,” Harry instructs with a quivering voice, glancing at the old lady who nods.

He escorts her towards the main entrance, ready to open the door but the doorknob won’t budge. “Damn it, what’s happening!?”

He struggles for a few seconds with it, holding the letter in the other hand and decides to toss it in his pocket, and then he hears Dinah shriek.

He turns around and his eyes go wide as he spots three angels at the top of the stairs on the landing, each hiding their eyes in different ways. One of them is completely hiding its eyes behind its hands, the second one has its hands away so that a bit of its face could be seen, but the last one however is completely staring at them, hands reaching out, face contorted with an open mouth, as if the statue was actually screaming.

Harry starts panicking, his hands are now trembling and he’s still struggling with the door, and now he feels Dinah’s own terror beside him. “Please Mr. Styles,” she begs, face twisted in fear.

Harry’s eyes drop to the floor, where a key lays on the ground, and he heartily hopes the key will fit and open this door, but sadly when he tries, the key doesn’t fit. He groans, looking up to spot the latch. He quickly pulls it aside and the door finally budges.

“Got it,” he screams in victory, opening the door. He grabs the woman by the arm, glancing hastily over his shoulders at the angels who have moved down the stairs. He closes the door in haste, escorting the old lady to the driveway.

By the time they’ve made it far away from the house, Harry is panting, holding Dinah by the arm while the woman is out of breath, body completely shaking.

Harry gives one last glance at the mansion before directing his attention on the woman. “Are you okay, Dinah?”

The woman startles at her name, but nods slowly. She glances at the car pulled over, and Harry notices it’s a taxi.

The letter in Harry’s pocket is like a burning hole, and he finds himself asking the question before he considers it. “Would you come to mine, please?” he requests with a small voice. “I have so many questions.”

Dinah looks at him with soft eyes, giving him a smile. “Sure my boy. Let’s go.”

They don’t look back at the house, not noticing the angel at the window, watching them.

~

A few minutes later and they’re back in Harry and Louis’ house. Dinah is sat at the table, sipping her tea while Harry sits in front of her, holding the letter in his hands. But he still hasn’t opened it again. He isn’t sure he can.

He doesn’t understand what just happened. Doesn’t understand how it is possible, how it is real, what are those creatures and where is Louis. He can’t be that man in the pictures, he can’t.

He’s been staring at them for a few minutes, finding more shots in the envelope. There’s one with Louis and his wife (god, he had a wife!), and also children, all posing in front of a big house. Louis had a whole family, he lived another life, without Harry and it’s... It’s just so surreal.

He sighs, rubbing his face with his hands. When he looks ahead, Dinah is observing him with the same considerate look and warm eyes.

“You know,” she starts, putting down her cup of tea, “he told me it was not easy for him to start over. He was... Confused, and lost. Thankfully, everything quickly came up roses to him.” She smiles, looking away as if recalling a memory. “He had the great fortune to meet a man who helped him.”

She looks down at the letter in Harry’s hands, gesturing at it with one finger. “You should keep reading. As I said earlier... He will explain it better than me.”

When Harry only stares at the letter and doesn’t answer, Dinah places her hand on his, squeezing gently. “I can go if you want.”

“No,” he finds himself blurting out, looking at her with big lost eyes. “Please, stay.”

The old woman sweetly smiles at him, removing her hand and nodding.

Taking a deep breath, Harry starts reading again.

_The last thing I remember, except from you of course, is facing The Weeping Angel._

_Those creatures are not from this world. They are deadly murderous psychopaths, and they eradicate their victims by dropping them into the past, letting them live out their lives in a different time period. This action provides them in turn to live off the remaining time energy of the victim’s life. That is what happened to me._

Harry doesn’t understand. How is this real? How did his life suddenly go from totally normal to abnormal?

_By the time you read these words, I will be long gone. Unless I live to a really exceptional old age, which is ironic because you know I did not want to grow old. But hey, that is life, isn’t it?_

Harry feels a strange emotion welling up inside of him, and promptly, his vision gets blurry, tears burning his eyes.

He can’t believe this is happening.

_Please, do not feel sorry for me. I have led a good and full life. I put some pictures in the envelope, where you will find me and my kids: Cara Jen Tomlinson and Marc Hector Tomlinson. I have loved a woman too, and have been well loved in return. Her name was Jane, and I am sure you would have loved her, in different circumstances. She was great and we were happy, but there was something missing in her eyes._

_Starting a new life all over was not easy, considering I got transported in 1920. When I think it is only a few years earlier that the Titanic sunk... Can you imagine? And World War I? It is bizarre to think I have lived through World War II too, and that I could not do a thing to prevent it. I wonder if I was sent back in time as a punishment for not listening in history classes? Life has a strange humour._

_But yeah, I landed right in the middle of a corn field, in Hull, 1920. There, I met one of my best friends, Niall Horan. He was kind to me, and helped me figure out what happened. Turns out that boy had connections with a man called The Doctor._

_Remember his name Harry, he is very important. He has saved your life just now. He is the one who wrote the message on the wall, from me._

Harry frowns. His ideas are upside down; he doesn’t know what is real anymore. He doesn’t completely fathom and grasp this concept of... Time travelling.

_Please, do something for me, my love. Tell Liam the truth, as hard as he swallows the news, tell him. Tell him and Zayn to not waste their time, because everything happens so fast. Either because of a jump in the past, or an accident._

_Tell them I wish them the happiest time together. They were meant to be._

Harry can’t help but think, _but what about us?_

_And you, my sweet Harry..._

Harry has to blink a few times, unable to see the words through his tears.

 _I saw you four days ago, you know._ Harry frowns. _At the time I am writing this letter, we are in 1995, and you just turned one year old. I have lived near Holmes Chapel for a few years now, knowing you would be brought to this world eventually. Brought back to me. You are a sweet baby, like I figured out by the pictures you used to show me. It was odd for me at first, to see you like that. I am just an old man now... And I feel like I am leaving soon._

_It has been hell to live near you but not talking to you, or even approaching you. I have been told by the Doctor that it would not be good if I ever come near you. So I had to watch you from afar. But it felt important for me to see you before I go, even if you do not remember me. After all, you are only a baby. Were. This is very confusing, isn’t it?_

_But you will always be my baby, Harry. I am sorry it turned out like this. I should have come out with you, instead of staying back. Maybe The Weeping Angel would not have caught me? I am not sure. What is done is done now, we cannot change the past, even though I wish I could._

_What cannot change either, is my love for you. I never forgot about you. I hope we will meet again, after death, or in another life maybe. Perhaps this time we will be luckier._

_Because I know we will see each other again, my love. This is our destiny._

_I love you._

_Always in my heart, Harry Styles._

_Yours sincerely, Louis._

By the time Harry is done, the tears that spilled out of his eyes and ran down his cheeks are like a silent river, with some drops fallen on the paper.

Dinah’s hand rests on his again, giving him a small pressure to comfort him.

“He is buried in Doncaster, his hometown,” she says after a while, after Harry’s body has run out of tears. Harry looks up at her. “If you want to visit him,” she finishes sadly.

~

**_PAST_ **

“Will you stop following me?” Louis roars at the boy who has been following him since he got out of the corn field.

“No way,” the boy replies, shaking his head. “I can help ya! If only you’d tell me what’s happened to ya!”

The boy grabs Louis’ arm once again, making him stop in his tracks.

Louis groans and throws his hands up in surrender. “Fine!” He perches his hands on his hips, slightly frowning. “But you won’t believe me,” he adds dejectedly.

The blonde guy imitates his posture, raising his chin in a daring way. “Try me.”

Louis stares at the boy for a few seconds, scanning him.

He doesn’t know why, but he feels like he can trust this boy to not run away from him, yelling at everyone that he is crazy. The lad seems so carefree, as if he’s actually seen a lot.

And if by the end of his story, he calls Louis insane, then he will just have to hide and not cross his path ever again.

“Alright,” he capitulates with a sigh.

The boy’s face brightens, giving Louis a broad smile. Then, he drops to the ground, sitting in the grass, propping his right elbow on his knee, resting his chin in his hand. “I’m all ears.”

Louis raises an eyebrow but sits as well. He tensely runs a hand through his hair, his other hand tracing some circles on his knee. He is not sure where to start.

“I’m not from here,” he settles for, looking up tentatively at the boy. He should just go straight to the point.

The boy tilts his head, frowning. “It’s weird though, you seem to have a Yorkshire accent.”

Louis shakes his head, chuckling a bit. “Yeah, I was born in Doncaster... But that’s not what I meant. I’m not...” he pauses for a few seconds, considering his next words.

The blond guy prompts him to continue with a reassuring look, angling his head on the side.

“I am not from this time,” he lets the words linger for a while between them, eyeing the boy’s reaction.

The Irish lad straightens up, looking suddenly very serious, a spark of interest lit in his eyes. “I’m listening.”

Louis chews on his lips, maintaining their eye contact. “I was born in 1991, and a few minutes ago, I was in London... With my boyfriend, Harry. In 2015.”

The guy takes a short breath, nodding his head, mouth opened in understanding. He then looks down, brows knitted together, an intense look on his face. When he says nothing or doesn’t call Louis insane, the latter grimaces. “I know you don’t believe m–”

“Oh, I do, don’t worry,” the Irish guy cuts in with a serious face, looking at him straight in the eyes.

Louis’ mouth opens, staring at the boy with a skeptical face. “You do...?”

The lad nods. “You have just travelled in time,” he drops out, and Louis chokes on his saliva.

“What? This is absurd.”

The guy snorts. “Yeah, right. How would you explain this otherwise?” When Louis doesn’t say anything, the boy continues, “Listen, I’m familiar with these kinds of things... Believe me or not, but I’ve travelled in time. In a spaceship, nonetheless, with a man called The Doctor, he’s an alien, mind you.” Louis shakes his head, sniggering at the boy’s words.

Wow, so he is not the crazy person here after all.

“It’s true,” the boy insists, clapping his hands on his knees with a solemn expression. “I’ve seen things you wouldn’t believe. I even travelled to your time!” At that, Louis stays silent, mouth hanging open. “And it was amazing! I love the iPad thing you guys have!”

Louis puffs, shaking his head in disbelief. It’s...

“I know, it’s crazy! But...” the boy quickly says, “I’ve seen wonders, and some not so many cool things...” He frowns in thought. “I’d like to know what’s happened to you.” He straightens his back, a serious but also alarmed look on his face. “How did you get here? Do you remember anything?” he inquires promptly.

Louis is taken aback by his sudden change of behaviour, but he nods. “Erm, yes... I was in that house with Harry, he wasn’t with me when it caught me...”

“It?” The boy asks, tilting his head, looking as if he knows the answer but he wants Louis to confirm his supposition.

“The angel.”

Louis sees the boy gape at him, wide-eyed. “The angel!?” the Irish guy repeats, voice high.

“Yes...” Louis hesitates, growing a bit nervous. “It... It moved! And it attacked me,” he says, frowning at the memory. “The only thing I remember is... Its ugly face and its arms reaching for me...”

Then his eyes widen, realisation hitting him. “Oh god, I have to warn Harry,” he exclaims, bolting up, the other guy following suit.

“Wow, calm down here mate,” the blonde guy utters in a rush.

“No, I won’t calm down,” Louis barks, tearing his hair out as he paces on the ground. “That thing is probably going to kill Harry! Or...” He turns towards the boy with a hopeful face. “If the statue catches him, would Harry be sent here?”

The boy gapes at him a few seconds. “I don’t really know, mate. Not sure this is how The Weeping Angels work.”

“The Weeping Angels?”

The guy sighs, rubbing his forehead with raised eyebrows. “I think I need to call the Doctor.”

~

**_PRESENT DAY_ **

It takes two times for Liam to ask Harry where Louis is before the latter decides to leave the house. He’s not trying to avoid Liam, not really...

Okay, maybe, but it’s just because he doesn’t have the heart to tell Liam what really happened. He still isn’t sure himself, so instead of telling the truth, he only lets Liam know that Louis is off somewhere for work.

And then, he promptly packs his stuff and drives to Holmes Chapel.

He tries his best to not let his emotions show on his face when his mother opens the door, especially when she grows suspicious at his visit.

So he makes sure to assure his mother that he is completely fine with Louis, that he was just missing her, and that’s about it.

It’s only later in the day, after dinner, that Harry takes his courage in both hands.

“Hey mum,” Harry says from the doorframe, watching his mother do the dishes. “Here, let me help.”

He takes the rag as his mother does the cleaning, smiling sweetly at him. They work in silence for a few minutes, Harry thinking how to formulate his question.

“You seem preoccupied, darling,” Anne says, startling the boy a bit. He glances at her, but she’s still focusing on the plate she’s washing. “You’re sure everything is alright?”

This time, she puts the plate and sponge down in the sink, turning her body towards her son.

Harry looks down, sighing a little. “Yeah, ’m just a bit tired, is all,” he lies.

He avoids her eyes, instead staring at the plate he’s cleaning, rubbing it hard. The plate is probably already clean, but he doesn’t care, he just keeps doing it. A warm and careful hand wraps around his wrist, and Harry lets his mother put the plate and rag away, leading Harry to the table to make him sit.

“You were never really good at fibbing, darling,” Anne states with a soft voice. “Tell me what’s wrong,” she says, nudging his knee.

Harry crosses his legs under the table, agitating his foot nervously. “Nothing, I swear.”

It is clear by his mother’s expression that she doesn’t really believe him, but as always, she doesn’t push him.

“You know you can always talk to me, alright love?” she frowns, taking his hands in hers.

“Of course, mum,” he replies, giving her a small smile.

He looks down at their hands, clears his throat and then just decides to get on with it.

“Erm, I was wondering...” Anne tilts her head, waiting. “When I was little, did we know a man called,” he bites his bottom lip, “Mr. Tomlinson?”

The woman seems taken aback by the question, but she nods. “Oh, yes. How do you know about him, you were so little?” she frowns, albeit her eyes are now sparkling.

“He was a lovely and kind man, lived not far away, just a few streets down,” she continues, smiling at herself. “Used to always leave me gifts for your birthdays, and even Christmas,” she tells him with a tender expression, making Harry’s heart flutter at that.

“I went to his funeral, actually,” Anne continues with a doleful voice. “His family was there, I talked to his... Um, I think it was his only granddaughter.” Harry gulps, guessing she is probably talking about Dinah.

“She was very sweet, accompanied with her kids and grandkids. They all seemed like a lovely family,” she finishes, giving her son a dimpled smile.

She then stares into emptiness with a frown, a hint of something in her eyes, as if she’s just remembered something. “That’s odd, by the way... His full name was Louis Tomlinson, just like your Louis,” she laughs softly, not noticing Harry’s fake chuckle.

“Our Louis always reminded me of this nice old man... I wonder if they were related?” She tilts her head, looking questioningly at Harry.

Harry shrugs, shaking his head. If only she knew the truth.

He suddenly feels weird. Weird, and so, so sad. He feels the muscles tense in his throat, and before he bursts out, he excuses himself to his mother, kissing her on the cheek before climbing upstairs to go to bed.

He needs a good night sleep. Everything is just still too baffling.

~

The day after, Harry takes his car and drives to Doncaster. He’s only visited a few times. Louis used to live there until he was twelve years old. He loved his old good city, and Harry understands why.

He isn’t here for a visit though. He drives with an emotionless face, only putting on a polite smile when asking directions for the nearest flower shop to some passersby.

Then he makes his way to the cemetery.

Although he goes through the gates with a decisive expression, his assured pace slows down as he looks for Louis’ grave.

Suddenly, he isn’t too sure if it was a great idea to come.

But he has to.

When he finally spots it, he has to take several breaths, until he gathers the courage to walk towards it.

It’s quite a big grey gravestone, dirty and old with the passage of time.

He can’t help but caress the stone with a finger, passing it over the writing.

**Louis William Tomlinson**  
**1899 - 1995**

Harry narrows his eyes at the birthdate, rapidly making the calculation in his head.

Louis would have been twenty-one in 1920, whereas he was actually twenty-three.

Harry can’t help but laugh, lifting his eyes towards the sky. “You’re such a liar.”

Only Louis would lie about his age to be younger, even after being sent in the past.

Forever Peter Pan...

Harry’s eyes start watering, and he sniffs while looking down, slightly shaking his head.

He takes the letter out of his pocket, rereading it for the hundredth time. He stares down at the grave, a determined look on his face.

“This cannot end like this, Louis. This simply cannot be it,” he tries to say with a forceful voice. “I won’t accept it. I’ll do anything to go back to you, I promise.” He coughs, throat tight. “I can’t live a life without you, that’s not what was planned.”

He bends down and places the rose on the tomb, before blowing a kiss with his hand.

“I promise.”

He leaves without another look, not even noticing The Weeping Angel standing among the graves not far away.

~

Harry has been staring at the DVD shop sign for at least fifteen good minutes now. But he still can’t force himself to enter and face Liam. Even though he has to.

Taking a long breath, he makes his way to the shop, pushing the door. The doorbell rings, and Liam looks up from his comic he was reading behind the checkout.

“Harry,” the boy exclaims, beaming. “You’re back!”

Harry smiles at the older boy, propping his elbows on the counter. “Hey Li.”

“Have you heard from Louis lately? Did you guys fight?” Liam promptly asks, smile now gone. “I am starting to worry.”

Harry feels sick to his stomach. He looks down at his hands, fidgeting with his fingers, not wanting to look at Liam. “Yeah, I’m– Can I talk to you for a second? It’s quite... Important,” he lets out with a low voice.

He hears the boy close his book. “What’s wrong?” Liam’s concerned tone makes Harry look up at him.

“I– I don’t really know where to start...” Liam raises a finger and goes to lock the door, turning around the sign to indicate that the shop is closed. “Come, follow me,” he says to Harry, guiding him to the back room.

The first thing that Harry notices is the mess of the room, several piles of comics and papers everywhere, and then he notices that the TV is on.

But that’s not what catches his attention. No, it’s the man with brown hair on the screen that gets him to stop. And the dark-skinned woman is beside him too. They are the same two people that Harry saw when he went home and saw on the screens in the guest room.

The man on the TV opens his mouth, “Martha,” and the designated Martha says “sorry“ before she leaves the screen, leaving only the man in the picture. Then the man looks ahead to finally say “quite possibly.”

Harry frowns, not understanding.

“Afraid so,” the man says, as if he’s answering someone’s question. Harry doesn’t know whom he’s talking to.

He points a finger at the TV, mouth opened in a silent question with a raised eyebrow.

Liam opens his mouth, but the man on the screen speaks again. “Forty-six.”

Liam looks at the screen and raises a finger at Harry. “Just a moment.” He takes the remote and pauses the... Whatever it is like movie. “Sorry, here we go,” he says to Harry as he sits on a chair near by. “So, what is it you wanted to talk about?” he inquires. “Is it about Lou?”

Harry’s mouth stays open for a few seconds, deliberating with himself whether to tell him or not.

He knows Louis has asked him to, but he can’t, not now. It would break the boy’s heart. Harry wouldn’t even know how to explain everything properly.

After a few seconds passing, Liam raises an eyebrow, tilting his head.

“He’s still out for work, Li,” Harry comes out with, face palming himself in his head for lying to this boy he considers his brother.

“Really?” Liam asks with a frown, surprised.

“Yeah, he went to a seminar in Manchester, and he’s staying there a few days, also visiting some friends...” Harry elaborates, internally grimacing at his poor lie. “It happened so fast, he didn’t tell anyone except me,” Harry misinforms, but Liam seems to accept it. “Oh, well that’s great for him...”

“And,” Harry blurts out, not really thinking of what to say next.

Liam tilts his head. “And?”

“He loves you,” Harry says. “And he wants you to make it up with Zayn.” That’s the closet thing to the truth he’s ever said in the last few minutes.

At Liam’s downcast eyes, Harry sighs, smiling a bit. “Li... I know things aren’t always easy, but you and Zayn really love each other, I know that. There’s nothing you guys can’t make it through. It’ll work out in the end, you’ll see.”

Liam, who was playing with his sleeve, a nervous habit, stops and looks up at Harry. “Thank you, Hazza,” he finally answers, giving him a smile.

Harry returns it, and before he can think of anything else to say, the man on the screen speaks up.

“Yeah. Yeah, people don’t understand time. It’s not what you think it is. “

Harry’s eyes snap to the TV, looking between it and Liam. Didn’t he pause the movie?

Liam grabs the remote again and clicks on the pause button with a frown.

“Who is this guy?” Harry finally asks. He’s been itching to know.

“Sorry, the pause thing keeps slipping. Stupid thing... There!” The other boy says, putting down the remote on the table. He looks back at Harry with a satisfied smile.

“Last time I went home, you had him on all those screens. That same guy.” Harry points a finger at the man with the black glasses. “Talking about... I don’t know, blinking or something,” he frowns.

Liam chuckles. “Oh yeah, that bit is my favourite. I was just checking to see if they were all the same.”

“What were the same?” Harry demands, because he really wants to know. He feels like he needs to know. “Who is this guy?”

“He’s on some of my DVDs, all different. Like an Easter Egg, you know?”

Harry huffs, tapping his foot on the ground. “No, Liam, I do not. Don’t talk nerd to me.” He rolls his eyes, smirking.

The other boy giggles. “Sorry. Well, an Easter Egg is like... An undocumented bit on a DVD. Like an extra, you know? Usually it’s more included as a joke, or as I said, as a bonus. So yeah...” Liam mumbles.

“Sometimes, they put them on, like hidden documentaries, and they call them Easter eggs. You have to go looking for them, follow a bunch of clues on the menu screen.”

Harry thinks it’s a bit complicated, but what does he know about this after all.

“Complicated,” the man on the screen says, making Harry’s head snap up at him, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s interesting, really,” Liam continues, not noticing the man has spoken again. “He’s actually on a bunch of different DVDs.” Harry turns his gaze back on Liam, because the man on the screen is giving him goosebumps.

“There are seventeen totally unrelated DVDs, all with him on,” Liam continues animatedly, “always hidden away, always a secret. Not even the publishers know how he got there,” he informs, excitement heard in his voice.

“I’ve talked to the manufacturers, right? They don’t even know. It’s like he’s a ghost DVD extra. Just shows up where he’s not supposed to be. But only on those. Those seventeen,” Liam insists on each word, as if this Easter Egg is the most mysterious discovery of the century. To him, it probably is.

Harry raises an eyebrow. “So... What’s the point? What does he do?”

Liam doesn’t seem dejected by Harry’s lack of enthusiasm, as he shrugs with a big smile. “Dunno really. He’s just sat there, throwing out some remarks. It’s like we’re hearing only half of a conversation, since he seems to be talking to someone else,” he finishes, clicking on the play button.

“Very complicated,” the brunet in the screen says again.

There’s a sudden new voice in the shop, making Liam startle. “Liam, you’re here? It’s Steve, I need your signature please!”

“Oh,” Liam’s face brightens. He stands up and claps Harry on the shoulder as he goes. “Coming,” he calls, going to the front of the shop.

Harry is left alone in the back room, staring at the TV screen as the man begins a speech, waving his hands in the air.

“People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it’s more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey…stuff.”

Harry chuckles to himself. This really doesn’t make any sense at all. Well, the beginning of the sentence was comprehensible, but the end...

“Started well, that sentence,” he murmurs to himself, looking away.

“It got away from me, yeah,” the man on the screen... answers.

Harry’s eyes go wide, staring at the TV. “Okay...” He looks around him. “That was weird. It’s like you can hear me.”

“Well, I can hear you,” the man answers as he stares ahead of him, as if he’s looking right at Harry.

Harry’s breath hitches, and he briskly takes the remote to pause the movie just as Liam comes back.

If on the exterior he doesn’t show any emotions on his face, on the inside he is freaking out a bit.

But Liam doesn’t seem to notice, as he beams at him while fidgeting with a paper in his hands.

“What’s this?” Harry demands casually, resting a hand on his hip.

“Got you the list,” the boy answers, making Harry frown.

“A list of what?”

“The seventeen DVDs. I thought you might be interested.” Liam shrugs.

Harry takes the paper and reads quickly through it. He looks up at Liam, smiling. “Yeah. Great, thanks Li.”

He puts the paper in his bag and quickly hugs Liam. “I gotta go, I have some stuff to,” Liam arches an eyebrow, “Do. Bye!”

He quickly leaves the back room, noticing a man behind the counter of the shop, must be Steve, watching a TV show.

He doesn’t acknowledge Harry, and the latter doesn’t give the him time, as he jogs towards the door, ready to exit.

“Go to the police, you idiot!” Steve yells at the TV, making Harry’s hand stop on the doorknob. “Why does nobody ever just go to the police?”

Harry looks at him, frowning, then he just opens the door, resolved.

~

“Look, I know I must sound crazy, but I’m telling you the truth,” Harry declares with a sigh, throwing his hands in the air.

The sergeant behind the counter shakes his head, looking unconvinced. “Shall we try it from the beginning this time?”

Harry wants to punch something, but since he’s too polite and against violence, he only sighs again and takes a deep breath, scowling. “I was at the abandoned house, that’s been empty for years, Wester Drumlins?”

The sergeant, who has been writing on his paper, stops and looks up at that. “Wester Drumlins?”

“Yes!”

The policeman frowns and raises a finger. “Could you just wait here for a minute?” he asks Harry, then leaves without another word.

Harry groans, turning around to lean against the counter.

Outside the big window, it has started raining. It’s nothing unusual in London, but what’s unusual is the two angel statues standing on each side of the door of the chapel opposite to the police station.

Harry narrows his eyes, walking towards the window, making sure his eyes aren’t deceiving him.

He blinks for a few seconds, but when he opens his eyes, the angels aren’t there anymore.

“What the...” he whispers, slowly freaking out. “Okay, now I’m scared.”

“Hello,” a voice says behind him, making Harry jump.

He turns around to face a tall and young black man wearing a leather jacket with black jeans. “Billy Shipton,” the man introduces himself, holding out his hand.

When Harry doesn’t immediately shake it, Billy elaborates. “Wester Drumlins, that’s mine.”

“Oh,” Harry exclaims, shaking his hand. “Good afternoon, I’m Harry Styles.”

Billy glances at the policeman who was taking care of Harry. “Eh, Marcie, can you tell them I’m going to be late for that thing?” Marcie nods and Billie turns his attention on Harry. “Please, follow me.”

Harry follows the man as they walk through a hallway.

“Do you know anything about the Wester Drumlins mansion?” Harry asks the inspector.

The man nods and opens a door, letting Harry go first. “I’ll show you something,” he only answers.

They go down the stairs and pass another door before arriving at an underground car park.

Confused and frowning, Harry turns towards the man. “Are we arrived?”

Billy nods. “Over the last two years, the owners of all of these vehicles have driven up to Wester Drumlins House, parked outside, and just disappeared.”

Harry’s frown deepens, looking around the parking lot, filled with cars. “All of them?” He spins his head to look at the man who nods. “No sign of them after that?”

“None.” The guy shakes his head, sighing.

Harry observes the cars, wondering if they all got caught by an angel, like Louis did.

He doesn’t really know if he can tell this man what he knows, probably because he is going to sound crazy, but also because he still doesn’t fully understand everything, even with Louis’ brief explanation.

_Louis..._

Harry shakes his head, trying not to think too much, when a blue police box put in the corner captures his attention.

“What’s that?” he asks, walking closer to it, Billy following him.

“Oh, a gem,” exclaims Billy, patting the police box. “No exception, we found it there too. Not sure what it is, honestly.”

“A phone box?” Harry simply says with a smirk, making the man laugh.

“Yes, but it’s a special kind of phone box.” Billy points at the inscription written on the box. “For policemen. They used to have them all over, in the old days. But it’s not a real one, just a good imitation.” He touches the deadbolt with his finger. “Never succeeded to open it though,” he admits dejectedly. “It’s an ordinary Yale lock, but nothing fits.”

Well, this isn’t really helping anyway. If an inspector cannot find the missing persons, how would Harry find Louis? The only thing he knows for sure is that the explanation is irrational, and that it is caused by creatures called “Weeping Angels“...

Suddenly, an idea occurs to him.

Maybe all the answers he needs are just simply there, back at the mansion.

He knows it’s risky, but what is worse than not seeing Louis ever again? Maybe if The Weeping Angel catches him... He’ll get back to Louis.

Harry turns quickly towards the man, extending a hand.

“Well, thank you for your time, inspector.”

Billy shakes his hand, face curious, as if he is reading right through Harry. “I expect you to understand, my boy, that place is not safe.”

Harry feigns innocence, raising an eyebrow. “Hmm?”

The man looks at him seriously in the eyes. “For your safety, I advise you to not approach that house. You hear me?”

Harry nods. “Of course. Wasn’t my intention.”

The inspector frowns, clearly not believing him. “Someone you knew disappeared there, didn’t they?” he suddenly asks, making Harry look down.

He chews on his lip, frowning. “Yes.”

It’s weird to say it aloud, to admit that Louis disappeared. But did he, really? He disappeared a few days ago, but in all truth, according to Louis in his letter, it’s been over ninety years ago.

“Listen, kid,” the inspector pauses, then sighs weightily. He hesitates before finishing his sentence. “Why don’t you give me your number? I’ll call you if I get anything new. I’ve been working on this case for a while now, and there’s still hope.”

Harry looks at him, smiling a little. If only he knew.

But who knows, maybe Louis could miraculously come back here? Maybe there’s still hope?

So Harry gives Billy his number, and decides he should just go.

“Have a good afternoon, inspector,” Harry says, nodding at the man.

He walks away, feeling the man’s eyes on his back, but what he doesn’t feel, is the presence of an angel in the lot.

~

When Harry is outside the police station, it’s still raining and the wind is still blowing, making him shiver. He sticks his hands in his pocket, and his right hand makes contact with a key. He pockets it out with a frown, then he remembers it's the key he found at the mansion.

And then it hits him.

It’s a Yale key.

Billy’s words ring in his ears. “ _It’s an ordinary Yale lock, but nothing fits._ “

Harry gasps, putting the key in his pocket as he runs back.

When he arrives in the parking lot, Billy is nowhere to been seen, and the police box is gone.

Suddenly, his phone rings, and Harry struggles to take it out of his pocket.

“Hello?” he answers, peculiarly praying it’s the inspector.

“Mister Styles?” a voice gibbers, and something sounds off. “This is Billy Shipton.”

“Inspector Shipton? Where are you?”

When Harry hears the answer, he has to blink a few times, completely caught off guard. “Where!?”

~

And here he is, a few minutes later, at the hospital of London.

The nurse who was leading Harry towards the room gestures to the only bed occupied in the giant room. “It’s him.” The ginger announces, and Harry automatically nods, although his thoughts are a mess right now.

He slowly makes his way towards the bed, taking into sight the old black man laying in his bed.

“Hello?” Harry announces himself lowly.

The old man in the bed opens his eyes, face lighting up when he sees Harry.

“You’ve come,” the man coughs.

“Billy?” Harry hesitates, recognizing the man’s features, and because he had called him a few minutes ago, but...

But it’s not possible. It can’t be. The inspector was a younger man a few minutes ago... It’s... Unreal.

The old man smiles, looking out of the window. “It was raining like this when we met.”

Harry’s struggling to breath a little. “It’s the same rain,” he answers, looking at all the medical items around the bed.

He doesn’t know what to say, so instead he takes a seat on the chair next to the bed, frowning sadly at the poor man.

He wants to ask what’s happened, except he feels like he knows the answer.

“I wanted to find you before, you know...” Billy says calmly. “But apparently I–”, he coughs, “it would’ve torn a hole in the fabric of space and time, and destroyed two thirds of the universe.”

“Two thirds of the universe, where did you get that from?” Harry chuckles lowly.

It’s a nervous chuckle, because there is nothing funny in this situation. It only makes all of this real, and scarier. And Harry is, so so lost.

“From that man in 1969.” Harry’s heart misses a beat.

So his theory is correct.

“He said he had a message for you.”

Harry’s heart drops from his chest.

He gulps. It could be Louis. In 1969, he would be like... Seventy-two years old, but it’s possible?

“What man?” he asks hastily.

“The Doctor,” Billy replies.

Harry’s eyes go wide.

The Doctor. Louis mentioned him in his letter.

He hurriedly takes it out, rereading the passage where Louis wrote about him.

_“A man called The Doctor. Remember his name Harry, he is very important. He has saved your life just now. He is the one who wrote the message on the wall, from me.”_

Harry frowns, looking up to Billy. “What is the message?”

“He just said...” the man pauses, frowning. “Look at the list.”

“What list?”

“He said you would have it by now,” the old man frowns, coughing. “A list of seventeen DVDs.”

Harry is going to have a heart attack if this nightmare continues.

“How did he know about the list? I only got it now,” he exclaims, wide-eyed.

Billy’s shoulders budge, and Harry assumes he just shrugged. “Told me you would understand someday.”

Harry stays silent for a while, trying to think what all of this means.

“I wasn’t a policeman back then, you know,” Billy starts, and Harry doesn’t understand why he’s changing the topic of conversation, “I got into publishing, then video publishing... Then DVDs...” He raises an eyebrow, and Harry puts two and two together.

“You put the Easter Egg on,” he breathes out, amazed.

Billy nods. “Have you found what all those DVDs have in common?” he asks, making Harry frown. “You have to find it.”

“I really don’t understand what all of this means...” Harry voices out, chuckling nervously as he looks down on the ground.

“Neither do I, my boy, neither do I,” Billy breathes out. “I wish I had the time to find out,” he admits sadly.

Harry’s head snaps up at that.

All this medical stuff, and Bill who seems so weak...

“You will,” Harry says, resting his hand on the man’s. “As soon as I find the meaning of this, I will tell you.”

The old man slowly smiles, closing his eyes. “I am afraid I will never know. The Doctor told me that when we’ll meet again, it only will be this time. On the night I die.”

Harry retracts his hand, shocked.

His heart fills with sympathy and sadness. “Oh, Billy,” he breathes out.

“It’s okay, I had a good life,” the man whispers, and Harry can’t help but think of Louis’ words.

When Billy doesn’t open his eyes, Harry looks at the man’s chest to check if he’s still breathing.

He breathes out a sigh of relief when he sees his chest rising, and he observes the man for a few seconds, before speaking up.

“Do you want me to leave?” he whispers.

“No...” Billy opens his eyes, taking his hand. It is rough and wrinkled. “I have until the rain stops.”

Harry doesn’t know what to say to comfort, there is nothing to say after all.

So instead, he squeezes his hand, and waits.

~

“I know what all these DVDs have in common,” Harry announces as he barges into the shop later in the evening.

Liam startles from his seat behind the counter, head snapping up. “Pardon?”

“They’re all mine,” Harry asserts.

“I’m not following you...” the boy frowns, standing up from his chair to get around the counter, facing Harry.

The latter sighs impatiently. “The DVDs on the list! They’re all the DVDs I own! The Easter Egg was intended for me!”

Liam’s face lightens up with understanding, his eyes wide. “Are you sure? How?”

Harry doesn’t answer, instead he takes Liam’s bag from the counter and throws it into the boy’s arms, who, thankfully, has good reflexes and catches it.

“Follow me,” the curly-haired boy announces, already walking towards the door. “Oh, and take the laptop!”

“Where are we going?” Liam asks as he tries to stick his computer into his bag.

“Wester Drumlins.”

~

“Why are we here?” Liam asks after a few minutes of silence, consisting of Harry setting the laptop on the rotten couch.

The latter doesn’t answer, too focused on launching his DVD, lips parted in concentration.

Liam looks around him, observing the room they’re in. He’s never entered the mansion, never really interested in it, much too pleased to get lost in his comics rather than ghost stories.

He stares at the orange screen for a moment, glancing between Harry and the computer screen. He doesn’t know what they’re waiting for, but suddenly the familiar man appears on the screen.

“Okay, there he is,” Harry exclaims, pulling up his sleeves.

Liam walks closer, kneeling down on the floor beside Harry.

He frowns at the brown-haired man on the screen as he puts on some black glasses, scrunching his nose.

“The Doctor...” Liam hears Harry whisper.

“The Doctor?” he repeats, glancing between Harry and the computer screen. “Who is he?”

Harry points at the man, not taking his eyes off the screen. “He’s the Doctor.”

“Yep, that’s me,” the man on the computer screen answers, startling both Liam and Harry.

“This is scary...” Harry murmurs, glancing at the boy beside him.

“No, it sounds like he’s replying, but he always says that,” informs Liam, shaking his head.

“Yes, I do,” the man says.

Liam waves his hand. “And he also says that.”

“Yup, and this,” the Doctor nods with his chin, as if he’s designating Liam.

Harry’s eyes keep going between Liam and the man on the screen. “Oh my god... He can hear us! You can actually hear us, can’t you?” Harry asks the man.

Liam shakes his head. “Of course he can’t, it’s a DVD, Harry!” He moves and reaches for his bag on the floor, dragging it towards him.

“Look, I’ve got the whole transcript.” He looks down at his paper, quoting. “Everything he says is here. ’Yup, that’s me. Yes, I do. Yup, and this.” He looks at Harry. “Next thing he’s gonna say is–”

“Are you going to read out the whole thing?” Liam and the Doctor say at the same time.

Harry’s eyes widen, mouth hanging open.

Liam’s mouth closes.

“Who exactly are you!?” Harry prompts.

He wants to mention that Louis spoke about him, but he doesn’t want to, not in front of Liam. Not now. Now is not the right time.

“I’m a time traveller,” The Doctor responds as a matter-of-fact. “Well, was.” He angles his head. “I’m stuck in 1969.”

“We’re stuck!” A dark-skinned woman suddenly appears on the screen, besides the Doctor. “All of space and time, he promised me! Now I’ve got a job in a shop! I’ve got to support him!”

“Martha,” The Doctor interrupts, shooting her a look.

The girl purses her lips. “Sorry.” And she retracts, going off screen.

Harry gasps, narrowing his eyes at the screen with a frown. “I’ve seen this bit before.”

“Quite possibly,” the man tells him, frowning.

“1969...” Harry whispers in wonder. “That’s where you’re talking from right now?” He raises an eyebrow. 1969 is also the year Billy was sent back to.

“Afraid so,” the Doctor replies.

Harry shakes his head, bewildered. “But you’re replying to me! You cannot know exactly what I’m going to say forty years before I say it.”

“Forty-six,” the man corrects.

Liam shifts beside Harry, holding a pen in his hand. He glances between the two, bewildered. “I’m writing down your bits.”

Harry frowns, squinting at the Doctor. “How is this possible though? I’d like to understand.” He is genuinely curious.

“Don’t talk too fast,” Liam complains, but Harry ignores him.

“People don’t understand time,” the Doctor answers. “It’s not what you think it is.”

“Then what is it?” Harry quizzes.

“Complicated,” the man simply replies.

“Tell me.”

The Doctor bends his head down to peer over his glasses. “Very complicated.”

Harry sighs, annoyed. “I need to know! I need to understand!”

He is starting to lose patience, and he’s wasting time to save Louis.

“People have died,” he continues with a strong voice, getting hit with images of an old Billy in his hospital bed, images of Louis in a gray suit from the 1920’s. Images of his grave... “And I’m not happy about it,” he finishes, gritting his teeth. “Tell me.”

The Doctor takes a breath, lifting his hands in the air, moving them while explaining things. “People assume that time is a strict progression of cause to effect, but actually from a non-linear, non-subjective viewpoint, it’s more like a big ball of wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey…stuff.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve definitely seen this bit. You said that sentence got away from you.”

The Doctor looks away, as if he’s reflecting. “It got away from me, yeah.”

Harry rights himself with anticipation. “Next thing you’re going to say is,” he tries to remember, “’well, I can hear you’“

“Well,” the Doctor shrugs. “I can hear you.”

“This is absolutely mad,” Harry exclaims, throwing his hands up. “This isn’t possible!”

“No, it’s brilliant,” Liam counters back, staring at the laptop in wonder.

“Well, I don’t exactly hear you,” The Doctor informs, squinting his eyes. “But I know everything you’re going to say.”

“How?” Harry asks.

“This part always gives me goosebumps,” Liam intervenes with a fascinated voice.

Harry hushes him. “How can you know what I’m going to say?”

The Doctor tilts his head. “Look to your left.”

Harry frowns, looking at the only thing to his left.

Liam.

Liam who’s still focusing on writing.

“What does he mean by look to your left?” Liam mutters to himself. “I’ve always wondered, but I can’t find the answer.”

“He means you,” Harry realises. He looks down at what Liam is writing. “What are you doing?” He squints down at the paper on Liam’s lap to read.

The other boy looks up, frowning. “I told you, I’m writing down your bits. That way I’ve got a complete transcript of the whole conversation?”

The Doctor points a finger ahead. “I’ve got a copy of the finished transcript. It’s on my autocue.”

“Wait, hang on,” Harry frowns, looking at the Doctor. “How can you have the finished transcript? It’s still being written.” He points a finger at Liam, even though the Doctor probably can’t see him.

“I told you. I’m a time traveller. I got it in the future.”

Harry rubs his hands on his face, sighing. “Okay, wow... This is... You’re reading aloud from a transcript of a conversation you’re _still_ having...?” He raises an eyebrow.

The Doctor nods. “Yeah! Yeah. Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey.”

Harry stops Liam’s wrist before he writes that down. “Never mind that.”

“What matters is, we can communicate,” the Doctor tells them. “We have got big problems now. They have taken the blue box, haven’t they? The angels have the phone box.”

Harry’s eyes go wide at that.

He straightens himself up, alert. “The angels? You mean the angel statues, right?” he blurts out, mouth agape.

“So? They’re just statues,” Liam says, frowning.

“Only when you see them,” the Doctor answers gravely.

This conversation is finally going somewhere, Harry thinks. _Now we’re talking._

“I know about them,” he cuts in, “they’re creatures from another world, and they send you in the past to feed on your energy.”

The Doctor frowns. “How do you know about them?”

“Niall Horan,” Harry blurts out, not wanting to mention Louis.

A sparkle of recognition appears in the man’s eyes.

“What are these creatures?” Liam inquires with a very confused voice.

“The lonely assassins, that’s what they were called. Now we call them The Weeping Angels,” the Doctor explains. “No one quite knows where they came from, but they’re as old as the universe, or very nearly, and they have survived this long because they have the most perfect defence system ever evolved. They are quantum-locked. They don’t exist when they’re being observed. The moment they are seen by any other living creature; they freeze into rock.”

Harry’s skin shudders, and he doesn’t know why he does that at this moment, but he suddenly raises his eyes, looking outside the window.

There, stands a weeping angel. Its face is hidden behind its hands.

Harry looks down at the screen, not wanting to look more at this creepy statue.

“No choice. It’s a fact of their biology,” the Doctor continues in his explanation. “In the sight of any living thing, they literally turn to stone. And you can’t kill a stone. Of course, a stone can’t kill you either. But then... You turn your head away, then you blink, and oh, yes it can.”

Harry’s mouth opens wide at that, and he slowly looks up again as he reaches for Liam’s arm without looking away from The Weeping Angel.

“Liam,” he whispers, “don’t take your eyes off that.”

Liam looks at Harry with a frown, before turning his head to follow his gaze. His eyes widen at the sight, when he discovers the angel covering its eyes.

The Doctor continues speaking. “That’s why they cover their eyes. They’re not weeping, they can’t risk looking at each other.”

When Harry makes sure Liam is staring at the statue, he looks back at the screen.

“Their greatest asset is their greatest curse. They can never be seen.”

Harry’s head snaps up at the ceiling when he hears a noise from upstairs.

“The loneliest creatures in the universe. And I’m sorry.” Harry’s gaze goes back on the Doctor. “I am very, very sorry. It’s up to you now.”

Harry shakes his head, confused. “What am I supposed to do?”

“The blue box, it’s my time machine. There is a world of time energy in there they could feast on forever, but the damage they could do could switch off the sun. You have got to send it back to me.”

“How?” The Doctor doesn’t immediately answer him. “How!?”

“Annnd... that’s it, I’m afraid,” the Doctor frowns, narrowing his eyes. “There’s no more from you on the transcript, that’s the last I’ve got.” He takes off his glasses. “I don’t know what stopped you talking, but I can guess. They’re coming.”

Harry looks up at the angel outside, still in the same position. “The angels are coming for you. But listen, your life could depend on this.”

He stares at the Doctor, who’s pointing a finger at him. “Don’t blink. Don’t even blink. Blink and you’re dead.”

Liam gulps beside Harry, gripping his arm as he still looks fixedly at the angel.

“They are fast, faster than you can believe. Don’t turn your back, don’t look away, and don’t blink.” There’s a short pause. “Good luck.”

And then the picture freezes.

“No, no, no! Wait! You can’t!” Harry loses nerve.

“We can rewind him,” Liam suggests as he turns the computer towards him in a rapid movement.

Harry’s head snaps up at him, his eyes wide. “You’re not looking at the statue!”

Liam stops in his movements, staring at him. “Neither are you...”

When they both turn their gaze, The Weeping Angel is inside the room, arms reaching towards them and mouth wide open.

They bold up at the same time, backing away as they stare at the statue.

“Keep looking at it,” Harry orders, voice loud.

Liam stares at the angel with wide eyes, not daring to move.

“Don’t blink! Keep looking at it,” Harry reminds him, looking around him to find any solution.

“Okay, yeah,” Liam breathes out shakily, “easy, there’s only one statue. Everything’s gonna be okay as long as I stare at this one statue.” He reassures himself.

“Actually,” Harry remembers in a wince, “there are three more.”

“THREE!?” Liam yelps, instantly backing away but still looking at the angel.

Harry looks up at the ceiling. “I think I’ve heard them earlier upstairs. But I think they’re coming for us.”

“Harry,” Liam whines, “this is not reassuring.”

“Okay...” Harry exhales, taking Liam’s hand. “I’m guiding you, keep looking at it.”

“Where are we going?” the boy asks, letting himself be pulled away.

“The front door.”

They stumble in the dark a few seconds with Harry’s phone lighting their path, but quickly he realises they can’t reach their destination.

“Shit, we can’t go to the front door without taking our eyes off this thing. Stay here, Liam. I’ll be right back.”

“What?”

“Stay here, don’t blink,” Harry repeats, letting go of his hands.

Liam hears Harry’s steps fading away, and he chews on his lip, staring hard at the statue.

Harry tries to open the front door, but of course it’s locked and nothing budges. “Shit,” he groans, hitting the door with the palm of his hand. “They’ve locked us in!”

“What?” Liam shrieks. “Why would they do that?”

Harry gasps, catching on. “I’ve got something they want...” He dives his hand in his pocket, fingers brushing over the key. “That’s why they’ve been following me,” he tells Liam. “They want the police box!”

“What are you doing? Harry? Come back here,” Liam calls out with a trembling voice.

Harry comes back to his side, brushing his arm.

“I’m going to check the back door, okay?” He stares at the statue as he takes Liam’s chin in his hands, making him look at him to pause his eyes a bit. “I’ll be quick. Look at it again!”

“What? Don’t leave me here again!” Liam squeezes Harry’s hand, but he turns his gaze back on the statue. “Give them the key!”

Harry ignores him, letting go of his hand. “Stay here, I’ll be right back, I promise. Keep looking at it. And don’t blink!”

Liam’s features are tense, clearly he wants to blink so bad, his eyes starting to water as Harry disappears in another room.

“Hang on,” he hears Harry shout from not far. “Shit, this door is locked too!”

“Harry...” Liam cringes, tempted to turn his back, because he’s frankly scared that another one appears behind and gets him.

“It won’t open!”

“Harry, please! I can’t do this!” Liam’s eyes are burning, and he wants to blink so badly.

He hears a sudden noise and his head automatically has to move before even realising what he’s doing.

He gasps and quickly turns it again to look at the angel... Angel that’s moved closer to him, arms at a few meters away from him.

“HARRY! HARRY,” Liam screams, backing away through the doorway, eyes burning as he stares at the angel. “Harry, hurry up!”

Harry leaves the backdoor because it definitely won’t budge. He runs through the room and stops in front of a door under the stairs leading down to the cellar.

“Liam,” he calls out. “They’ve blocked off the back door, but there’s a cellar. There might be a way out.”

“Coming,” Liam instantly answers in a yell, backing away round the corner and only taking his eyes off the statue when he springs off.

Harry goes down the stairs at a slow pace, looking around him.

But he doesn’t have to look for too long, as his gaze lands on the blue police box in the middle of the room, with three angels around it a few meters away, faces hidden behind their hands.

Harry knows he has to go to the box, that’s what the Doctor said.

He shakes his hands and rolls up his sleeves, taking a deep but shaky breath.

“Okay, I can do this.” His eyes move between the three angels. “You can’t move as long as I can see you,” he murmurs.

He hears footsteps behind him, and Liam runs past him towards the box, while Harry turns around and spots The Weeping Angel from earlier.

And Harry doesn’t know why, but he’s suddenly rooted to the spot as he stares at the angel. The angel that took Louis.

“Harry, come on! Get your ass over here,” Liam calls out behind him.

Harry shakes his head, snapping out of his thoughts. He slowly moves backward, still looking at the angel in front of him.

When he finally joins Liam near the phone box, they plaster their backs to the door, eyeing all four statues.

“Liam...” Harry breathes out, having a sudden thought. “Take the letter.”

“What?” the boy exclaims, startled. “What letter?”

Harry still watches the angels, not taking his eyes off of them. “In my pocket. Take it.”

Liam frowns but obeys, digging his hand in Harry’s pocket.

“Now what?”

“Just...” Harry sighs, not knowing how to phrase this. “Read it later. When it’s all over. Promise me.”

“Wh–”

“Promise me,” Harry asks again, and he sees Liam nod in the corner of his eyes.

Then Liam narrows his eyes at one angel, that is no longer hidden behind its hands and is instead pointing a finger at their phones.

“Why are their pointing a finger a–” Liam starts, but stops as soon as their torches from their phones turn off before lighting up the room again.

“Oh my god,” Liam exclaims in shock. “They’re turning out the lights so they can move!”

Harry quickly turns around to face the door, trying to find the lock, hand moving on the door.

“QUICK,” Liam yells in his ear, staring at the angels while their torches keep turning on and off.

Harry struggles, squeezing the key hard. “I can’t find the lock!”

Liam looks between the angels, eyes alert and frantic. “Harry, hurry up! Get it open! They’re getting closer, come on!”

Their phones flicker again, and the angels are getting nearer.

“Damn it,” Harry exclaims when he drops the key. Immediately, his reflex is to walk backward to look down, Liam’s is to kneel to pick up the key.

So they don’t fully register it when the angel, who was pointing out at their phones earlier, touches Harry with its finger.

“HARRY!” Liam screams, standing up from the ground with the key in his hand, his eyes widening when he no longer sees Harry.

“No,” he exclaims, panicked.

He gropes around, still staring between all the angels as he finally manages to fit the key in the keyhole.

He feels the door budge, and without taking his eyes off, he hurriedly goes inside the box, rapidly shutting the door behind him.

~

Liam lets out a sigh, eyes still wide open as the last few seconds stink in.

Harry... Harry got caught by the angel...

This can’t be happening.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds, taking several breathes. “Okay, you can do this Liam, everything will be okay,” he tells himself.

He allows himself a few more seconds to breathe before slowly turning around, eyes scanning the... Huge room he’s in.

On the outside this strange police box seems only to be a box, inside it’s... Bigger.

The room has lights everywhere on the walls, with a large, hexagonal console in the middle of the room, which is probably the control room.

Liam walk towards it, speechless.

Suddenly, an image appears on the catwalk above him, startling him as he looks up.

He gapes at the image, no, hologram.

Hologram that happens to be The Doctor, staring ahead of him as he opens his mouth. “This is security protocol seven one two. This time capsule has detected the presence of an authorised control disc, valid one journey.”

“Disc?” Liam frowns, then he digs into his bag to take out a DVD case. He opens it and he’s blinded by how bright the DVD suddenly shines.

“Please,” the hologram continues, “insert the disc and prepare for departure.”

Liam looks down at the control console, looking for a slot, rapidly finding one.

He’s about to insert the disc when a sudden shaking movement makes him stumble to the floor.

“Oh great,” Liam groans, trying to get up. “They’re trying to enter!”

The police box rocks to and fro, while Liam struggles to stay up. He finally clings onto the console and inserts the DVD into the slot.

Then all of a sudden, the big thing in the middle of the control panel starts up, making a strange noise.

Liam falls backward against some sort of pole, but then the pole dematerialises just before his eyes. Actually, the whole place seems to be vanishing.

“Oh god, no,” he yelps.

Suddenly, the whole place around him disappears, and he finds himself in the cellar again.

The box is no longer here, and he’s surrounded by the angels with their arms reaching for him.

Liam instantly closes his eyes, ready to accept his fate.

But nothing happens.

He slowly opens one eye, then the other one...

And he lets out a sigh.

The four angles aren’t moving, even after he’s closed his eyes. They’re just... Standing there, completely stoic.

The Doctor tricked them, it seems, because the angels are now looking at each other, and then Liam remembers the Doctor’s words:

“ _That’s why they cover their eyes, they can’t risk looking at each other. Their greatest asset is their greatest curse. They can never be seen.”_

Liam lets out a sigh of relief, half-chuckling. “Oh my god...”

He lets himself collapse to the floor. “It’s over,” he says in a whisper, feeling out of breath. “They’re never going to move again.”

~

**_PAST_ **

Harry is in the dark.

His eyes are shut tight, and he feels like he can’t breathe.

He isn’t sure he wants to open his eyes though, because he doesn’t want to face the ugly angel.

But then, he feels the wind on his face, the sun on his skin, and he hears a bird flying and tweeting. By themselves, his eyes snap open, and Harry lets out a gasp.

He’s... He’s in a field of tall green grass, with flowers everywhere. He slowly turns on himself, his eyes falling on some jumbo crocus, salvia and some other flowers. He looks up at the blue sky lacking of clouds, lips parted away in awe.

He feels suddenly hot with his coat on, far away from the rain of London.

“Oh my god, Liam,” Harry exclaims, widening his eyes.

Finally, the situation hits him hard.

He’s just... He’s just got sent back in time.

“Oh my god!”

He got touched by the angel! He remembers it now.

He doesn’t know how long he just stays there, standing in a field, gaping like a fish.

But then suddenly, the silence of the nature is broken when he hears a neigh. He turns his head and spots a man riding a horse, the animal pulling a cart full of wood.

Only now Harry notices a path. He slowly walks towards it, looking up at the man. “Erm, excuse me...? Sir...?”

The man pulls on the reins, making the horse stop.

The stranger is wearing a gray hat on his head, with some blonde hair falling on his face. His face is red, as if he was under the sun all day, and he looks down at Harry with friendly blue eyes.

“Can I help ya?” the boy asks, and when Harry hears the Irish accent, he slightly freaks out.

Oh god, did The Weeping Angel send him to Ireland? He prayed that the angel that touched him was the same one who caught Louis.

Oh god, what is he going to do...

“Hello?” The boy tilts his head, making Harry snap out of his thoughts.

“Erm, yes, sorry. Where am I? I mean,” he quickly corrects when the man raises an eyebrow, “am I in... Hull?” he asks hopefully.

“Sure you are!” The boy chuckles before closing his mouth, gaping at Harry as he observes him for a few seconds.

He then swings his leg over the horse, dismounting and stopping in front of Harry, who takes a step back, a bit confused.

“Oh dear lord,” the boy says, looking up and down Harry, taking into account his clothes. “It’s you,” he exclaims, a big smile plastered on his face.

Harry frowns, chuckling a bit. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand–”

“Louis told me you’d find a way back to him,” the boy continues as he laughs, incredulous.

Harry’s breath stops as he looks at the boy with wide eyes. “Louis!? Louis Tomlinson?”

“Absolutely,” the blonde guy laughs, shaking his head. “I assume that you had the misfortune to get caught by a weeping angel?”

Harry is completely lost. “How did y–”

“No matter!” The boy shakes his head, extending his hand. “I’m Niall Horan!”

Harry’s eyes widen at the name, and instantly, a huge smile makes its way on his face, as he shakes the boy’s hand. He is no longer lost, but now relieved.

This is the Niall Horan. Louis’ friend.

Oh god.

Louis is here. He made it.

“Please, take me to Louis,” Harry blurts out, and Niall flashes him a blinding smile of white teeth.

He salutes Harry with his hat, then gestures for him to climb in the cart.

~

After a few minutes’ travel, they finally arrive in front of a small wooden house in the middle of nowhere, and Harry recognize the architecture as Middle Ages.

He looks at it, fascinated, with a surrounding that is peaceful and calm, away from the “modern“ city.

“The house is an inheritance,” Niall explains as he gets off the horse, patting the animal. “Tomlinson likes to come here sometimes, when he is a bit overwhelmed...”

Harry feels Louis. He frowns, eager to find Louis and hug him and tell him that everything is going to be okay now they’re reunited.

He climbs down the cart, rubbing his behind.

“You’ll find him in the small yard,” Niall informs, patting his horse.

“Thank you.” Harry shakes Niall’s hand, and quickly walks around the house, passing in front of a vegetable garden, heart beating fast at the idea of seeing Louis again for the first time in a while.

Harry arrives in the backyard, full of tall green grass...

And there, on the edge of a wall, sits Louis, writing something in a notebook.

Harry doesn’t immediately announce his presence, instead he takes in the sight of Louis, admiring his outfit that strangely suits him.

He’s wearing a creme baggy plus fours, a black unpadded jacket with white braces. It actually reminds Harry of that time where Louis used to wear straps. He is still beautifully handsome, with this brown hair tucked behind his ears while he’s focusing on his notebook.

He doesn’t know what to say, but he quickly finds out he doesn’t have to.

As if he’s feeling his presence, Louis slowly looks up from his book...

And he just stills, lips parting and eyes opening wide.

“Harry,” he simply breathes out, before Harry runs to him.

The older boy immediately gets up, meeting Harry halfway as their bodies crash together.

Louis’ hand immediately goes to hold Harry’s neck, nose nuzzling his hair as he smells him. His other arm wraps around Harry’s waist, squeezing him hard as Harry’s arms wrap around Louis. They hold each other for a few minutes, before pulling away, their eyes wide.

Louis’ eyes travel from Harry’s face to his body, taking him in as he lets out a chuckle, incredulous.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” he exclaims, eyes shinning with tears, but smile present on his face.

“Me neither,” Harry giggles, pretty much in the same state.

He caresses Louis’ cheek with one hand, observing him. He sighs dreamily, admiring Louis’ face.

There is something different about it, but he is not sure what.

“How long has it been for you since you last saw me?” Harry frowns.

Louis opens his mouth, casting his eyes down, thinking how to answer this before looking up at Harry again, squeezing his neck in a gentle way. “One year.”

Harry lets out a small gasp, aghast.

Louis frowns in turn at him. “You?”

“A few days only...” Harry shakes his head, before dragging Louis towards him, his mouth finally meeting his boy’ after all this time.

And it’s like kissing for the first time in years.

Harry still feels butterflies in his stomach when his lips touch Louis’, still feels breathless after a few seconds, still feels like gasping for air when their tongues meet, still feels dazed when he clings onto Louis, legs trembling under all the feelings he has for Louis.

God, he loves him so much.

When Harry pulls away to breathe, his thumb rubs Louis’ cheek. “I thought I would never see you again,” he admits in a low tone.

“Me too,” Louis confesses, before smiling, crinkles by his eyes, eyes shining. “But... But you’re here. With me.”

“In 1921 nonetheless,” the younger giggles, Louis following.

“I have so much to tell you,” Harry informs when he gathers his thoughts, but Louis only answers by kissing him again. “Maybe it’ll wait a bit,” he finally decides, words muffled by Louis’ mouth as the older boy giggles.

Louis pulls away a few seconds later, hand on Harry’s back to guide him inside the house. He doesn’t take his eyes off Harry, as if he’s scared he’d fly away. He just stares at him with a hungry expression, but eyes full of love.

Inside the house, it isn’t that big, with only two rooms, all with wooden frames.

They’re currently in what could be a living room and kitchen, with an old table and some furniture and utensils.

Harry finds this contrast weird and fascinating. This place is like an old hut from the Middle Ages with furniture from the 1920’s. It’s so strange to be in this kind of surroundings.

The windows are all covered with wooden shutters, and he quickly glances outside to see that Niall has left.

Louis closes them, plunging the room into darkness.

He takes Harry’s hand and leads him to the other room, a single bed in the middle of it with a sink and tub.

Louis turns on the light, and Harry doesn’t really have time to observe the room furthermore because his back hits the mattress, Louis quickly hovering above him.

Their lips quickly reconnect, Louis’ right hand travelling from Harry’s cheek to his neck, his torso, his thigh. He grabs Harry’s leg and swings it over so that Harry’s foot rests on Louis’ back, their crotches suddenly rubbing together, earning a moan from Harry.

It’s been quite a long time since they had touched each other, and it feels so good.

They take their time with each other, hands touching every bit of skin, mouths breathing against every bit of skin. Gasps and groans fill the room several times, every single time Louis thrusts into Harry, the two boys feeling, now, really reunited. Skin-to-skin, bodies pressed tight against each other, melting together.

“I’m so glad you came back to me...” Louis breathes against Harry’s mouth as his hips thrust one more time, making Harry moan from pleasure.

“Me too...” Harry pants, mouth moving to Louis’ ear. “Not leaving you ever again.” He bites the boy’s earlobe, and Louis comes right into him, Harry following suit when his boyfriend’s hand finishes him off.

Louis pulls out and falls next to him, an arm wrapping automatically around Harry’s waist, as the curly-haired boy rests his head on Louis’ torso, listening to his breathing, face peaceful as he tries to regain his breath.

After a few minutes of silence, Harry speaks up in a hushed tone. “I can’t believe we just did an illegal thing right now.”

When Louis realises what he means, he blurts out laughing, shaking his head. “Yeah...”

Harry rights himself, propping his elbow on the bed, looking down at Louis. “Everything’s gonna be so different for us now.”

Louis’ hand runs through Harry’s curls. “We’ll make it through.”

Harry slowly nods, leaning down to peck the boy’s lips. “Together.”

“Together, my love.”

~

**_PRESENT_ **

Three months later, Liam is sat behind the counter at his DVD shop, reading through the notes with a sigh.

He is so taken by them that he doesn’t hear it when Zayn arrives beside him.

“You won’t let it go, will you?” the dark-skinned boy asks in a sad tone.

“Would you?” Liam retorts, not looking up from the transcript.

“It’s over, Li.” Zayn puts a hand on his shoulder.

Liam shakes his head. “I still don’t understand. How did the Doctor know where to write the words on the wall from Louis to Harry?”

After The Weeping Angels adventure, Liam did as Harry said, and read the letter he had in his pocket.

Turns out it was a letter from his brother Louis, written a few years ago.

In this letter, Louis explained everything about The Weeping Angels, and that Harry was sent back in time by the same angel and therefore found himself reunited with him, although the last time Louis had seen Harry, it was one year ago.

This whole thing of time travel was still confusing to Liam, but with Louis and Harry’s help, and his own experience with The Doctor and The Weeping Angels, he gathered all the information in a folder.

He just... Some explanations were still missing. And he doesn’t want to let go of this matter, because to him, it isn’t over yet.

Learning about his brother’s departure wasn’t easy for him at first. He knew what happened, sure, but it still wasn’t easy. And same for Harry, who was taken the same way Louis was.

Thanks to their letter though, Liam made absolutely sure to make it up with Zayn, who knew about this whole crazy situation. They were doing better, and Liam thanked Louis and Harry every single day for their advice and made him realise how much he didn’t want to lose Zayn, his soul mate.

This whole adventure also made him realise how strong a relationship could be; just like Louis and Harry’s was. Because they went through so much, and still found each other in the end... In spite of everything, they got their happy ending, and Liam couldn’t be happier for them.

He misses them dearly.

So yeah, it is still difficult to let go. He is determined to find all the answers, resolved to not let go of Louis and Harry like that.

“And... also,” Liam continues his rambling with a sigh, ignoring his boyfriend’s concerned look, “how did he get the copy of the transcript? How did he just know everything? Harry’s list of DVDs?”

“Look...” Zayn sighs, turning the boy’s stool to make Liam face him. “Sometimes, you never find out some things, and that’s okay!”

Liam frowns at him. “How can you say that? No, it’s not.”

Zayn doesn’t try to add more, because he knows where this is going. They have the same discussion every single time.

He sighs again, rubbing his face. “I have to go to pick up my mother and sisters.”

Liam smiles, hugging his boyfriend. “Go! We cannot make Mrs. Malik wait.” He winks.

The Malik sisters and their mum were invited for dinner at Liam and Zayn’s house. Well, what was Louis and Harry’s.

Zayn shakes his head, smirking as he bows down to kiss the boy on his forehead. “See you tonight, babe!”

“Yeah, see ya.” Liam waves his hand, and his boyfriend blows him a kiss, that Liam pretends to catch.

Zayn gives him one last fond smile before closing the door behind him.

Once he’s all alone again, Liam rereads through his papers, but after a fruitless search, as always, he closes the folder and sighs.

Then, his eyes land on Harry’s cellphone that was in the folder.

He smiles, unlocking the phone to watch the last video recorded.

A video from 1921.

Harry had his phone with him when the angel caught him, although the device was useless back then. But apparently he had enough battery to record a video and take some pictures.

Harry’s face appears on the screen, and Liam presses play.

“ _Hey Li!_ “ Harry exclaims, giving him a dimpled smile. “ _You are watching an exclusive video from the 20th century, isn’t that amazing?_ “ he giggles, and Liam can hear Louis laugh off screen.

“ _Louis, say hi to your brother!_ “

The camera shifts to show Louis, who gives a smile at the camera. “ _Hey Li. I miss you! I hope you made up with Zayn, you know I am not going to let go of this, I swear,_ “ he says in a stern voice but with warm eyes, making Harry and Liam laugh.

“ _I miss you. Take care of you! Love you, brother._ “

And the video ends.

Liam slides to the right to go through the pictures, watching for the hundredth time the few clichés that Harry got to take before his phone died.

There’s a picture of Harry trying on some period suit, an awful gray hat on his curls. Another one shows Louis’ back, walking in a field. The third one is a selfie of the two lovebirds, beaming at the camera. And the last one is a picture of the sunset.

Liam sighs, smiling sadly as tears prick his eyes. He puts down the phone, looking out the window, eyes observing the scene outside, only half registering when a familiar man with a dark-skinned girl climb out of a taxi.

“Oh my god,” he exclaims, mouth agape as he almost falls from the stool.

He grabs the folder on the counter and runs outside. “Doctor,” he screams as soon as he’s outside. “DOCTOR!”

The brunet man stops on the pavement, turning around to squint at Liam.

“Do we know each other?” The man asks with a frown, confused.

“Oh my god,” Liam exclaims as an answer. “It’s really you!”

The man tilts his head, frown deepening. “Oh,” Liam realises, “you don’t remember me, do you?”

The dark-skinned woman with the Doctor nudges his shoulder. “Doctor, we need to hurry up!”

The Doctor raises a finger at her. “One second,” he then addresses Liam, “Sorry, I’ve got a bit of a complicated life. Things don’t always happen to me in quite the right order. Gets a bit confusing at times, especially at weddings.” He pouts. “I’m rubbish at weddings, especially my own.”

Liam chuckles, realisation hitting him. “Oh my god. Of course,” he breathes out. “You’re a time traveller! It hasn’t happened to you yet... It’s in your future!”

“Oh, I have a future then?” the Doctor beams. “Nice to know.”

“Doctor, please,” the woman says, but the Doctor ignores her, turning his attention on Liam. “What hasn’t happened?”

Liam thinks, lips parting. It all makes sense now. “Oh, but yes,” he realises now. “It was me! From the beginning, it was me!” The Doctor tilts his head more, waiting. “You got it all from me,” he continues, tone filled with stupefaction.

“Got what?” the Doctor interrogates.

Liam takes a breath. “Okay, listen, one day you’re going to get stuck in 1969, make sure you’ve got this with you. You’re going to need it.”

He holds out the folder, and the man immediately takes it, albeit still frowning.

The woman, Martha, now Liam remembers, seems to grow impatient. They’re probably in a rush. “Doctor, we need to go now!” She throws an apologetic look at Liam, and the latter raises his hands. “Of course, on you go,” he says. “See you around some day,” he tells them with a sly smile.

The Doctor nods and starts walking away, before turning around again, pointing a finger at Liam, a broad smile on his face. “What’s your name?”

Liam smiles. “Liam. Liam Payne.”

“Nice to meet you, Liam Payne,” the Doctor beams.

And then, the man runs with the woman, leaving Liam in the middle of the street.

And now Liam finally has all the answers.

~

Liam pushes open the gates to the cemetery with his hip, holding two small bouquets in each hand.

He takes the path he knows by heart now, passes by some familiar gravestones, before finally arriving at the two most familiar ones.

When he is in front of them, he places the bouquets down in a nice spot, before removing the dead plants and tearing out some weeds.

When he is satisfied with the presentation of both graves, he gets up, reading the names for the hundredth time.

And one stone shows the words:  
**Louis William Tomlinson**  
**1899 - 1995**

And the other one, next to Louis’ right, shows:  
**Harry Edward Styles**  
**1899 - 1997**

Liam lets out a light chuckle, because Louis always wished he was the same age as Harry, and he managed to make his wish come true.

He also needs to take care of his other family members graves not far from these ones. Liam never knew Jane Tomlinson, or even Cara, Marc, Tom, Hannah and Evangeline Tomlinson. He only knows Dinah, but he considers them all as his family. After all, they are his family.

Harry’s own descendants are buried in another cemetery, and Liam mentally takes note to visit them as well. He notices some new flowers on Harry’s grave, with an engraving of the words, “my beautiful son“ from Anne written on it. It wasn’t easy for Liam to tell everyone the truth, but he had to, for Louis and Harry.

Louis and Harry, who despite all, found their way to each other.

Liam takes out the precious letter he got three months ago, when Harry gave it to him. He rereads it for the millionth time, even though he knows the words by heart.

_Dear brother,_

_I know this must not be easy for you right now. I also understand that it must be a bit complicated, but you have always been keen about these kinds of supernatural things. I trust by now that you know everything about The Weeping Angels and The Doctor. I never had the chance to meet him, but Niall spoke highly of him. He saved our lives after all, from getting the folder and using it in 1969 to help us, to writing the message on the mansion’s wall. So I guess we owe him._

_By the time you read these words, me and Harry have been long gone. But know that we lived well, and we were very happy._

_Although the 1920s were not a great time for being who Harry and I were, we had a good life. We made it work as best as we could, and I was fortunate enough to marry a beautiful and understanding woman, Jane, who gave me wonderful kids. You will find all the pictures of them, as well as my grandkids._

_Jane knew about Harry and I, and I am forever grateful to have found her, because she never turned her back on me. She understood, and when she was forced into marriage, she gladly accepted to marry someone she trusted, cared for, and we mutually agreed to get married._

_Even if it was hard for Harry and I, this is something I knew I had to do, because Niall informed me that it would change the future, well, your present, if my granddaughter never delivered my letter to Harry. Since Harry is gone, this letter is now yours._

_Speaking of Harry, he is doing well. We are now old men, but we lived our life to the fullest, happily. We had a house in the city, the town was expanding with more inhabitants when the nation’s wealth doubled and the economy grew. Harry used to write poems, then he started worked at the Ferens Art Gallery when it opened in 1927. Then he focused on painting (who would have guessed our Harold was this talented) and we made some fortune with his works of art. If you want to see them, you can always visit Dinah. I am sure she would be thrilled to show them. Also, it is more likely she will have Harry’s diaries. You can read them. They are about me and Harry, our history. She will probably have all the family albums as well, I am sure. Just ask her, and send her my love._

_As for me, I used to work in construction before the Second World War. But after Hull University was founded in 1927, I became a teacher there. It was strange to start all over, but we managed._

_Harry found himself wanting a baby one year after I started working at uni. Something that I could not give him. He married a nice woman named Odette Simolly, and got one girl, Mariah Vivian Styles, who in turn got three girls Reba Wanda Styles, Lucy Tamlin Styles and Annie Chastity Styles, who, I hope, are still living by now, as well as Dinah._

_We were all two big happy families. I have no regrets in life._

_At the time I am writing these words, we are in 1993, the year you were born. I wish I could go see you, but unfortunately I cannot. Even if I could, you would not remember me._

_But enough of me. I did not live a day without thinking of you. I hope you are living a good life, and that you are happy. Also, I hope that you made up with Zayn, because I swear to god if you did not, I am going to raise from the dead and make sure you do. No, but seriously, brother, I want you to be happy. For me. With whoever you choose._

_At this point, I do not really know what else to say except that I love you, and I am watching over you._

_Take care of yourself._

_Oh by the way, Harry says hi. He hopes you take care of Bruce and his seventeen DVDs._

_Sincerely,  
Your brother Louis._

Liam smiles at the letter, placing it safely back in his pocket before looking down at the memorial plaque he bought last time, that he placed between the two graves.

_When two souls are meant to be as one, a mysterious power will bring them together no matter how far apart._

He lets out a dreamy sigh, tears in the corners of his eyes. He smiles one last time, throwing some thoughts to Louis and Harry, wherever they are now.

At least, they’re together.

Because it was their destiny.

**THE END.**

**Author's Note:**

> **I have thought a long time about the ending of this story, but eventually I settled for a happy one. Because lot of you asked me, and also because I didn't really see the point of following the entire plot without Harry not seeing Louis ever again after that. SO YES, I broke some rules and made a happy ending.**
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> **If you have any questions, ask away! Because yeah, time is quite complicated in Doctor Who. I actually had some trouble with this fic, even asked my friend Noelle (who watches DW too) to help me figure out some things. I felt like a true Doctor Who show writer tbh.**
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> **Anyways, I still hope you guys enjoyed this fic!**
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> **Thank you for reading.**
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> **Hope you liked it. Go read my other fics. Of course, it's not an order. Just an advice. Please. Pretty please? :D**
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> **Kudos and comments would be much appreciated!**
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> **[Click[here](http://archiveofourown.org/users/larrycaring/pseuds/larrycaring/works) to see and read all my other works!]**
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**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [I'm coming home (just in time)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6592015) by [EstherftLarry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstherftLarry/pseuds/EstherftLarry)




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